


A Morbid Sense of Humor

by C130



Category: Cars (Movies), Planes (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2019-11-15 04:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18066662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C130/pseuds/C130
Summary: This was supposed to be a collection of Planes: Fire and Rescue shorts...then Cabbie and the Smokejumpers kind of hijacked it. Luckily there is rarely a dull moment when the ground pounders or their transport are on the loose. Also...I just noticed that while I had uploaded this series on Fanfiction.net I somehow forgot to do it here. Sorry about that.Story 1: Gory, Gory, What A Hell Of A Way To DieStory 2: Ghost StoriesStory 3: AvalancheStory 4: Where There's A Will, There's A WayStory 5: Moving On?Story 6: Final Will and TestamentStory 7: RebootStory 8: ConcussionStory 9: FreeStory 10: SaluteStory 11: Too Few Cooks in the Kitchen





	1. Gory, Gory, What A Hell Of A Way To Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was Pinecone's first parachute packing party, and she was modified by what her teammates were singing about.

It was a rare dark and stormy night at Piston Peaks National Park, and the rain-soaked vegetation translated in a near zip risk of a wildfire taking hold. With the danger all but gone, the Air Attack Team could focus on some much needed equipment maintenance; specifically, repacking parachutes. It was Pinecone's first time participating in a chute packing 'party' and she was starting to wonder if her fellow jumpers were completely insane.

The problem wasn't with how they packed the parachutes. Each member approached this task with a level of seriousness that Pinecone had only seen from her fellows when the fire had jumped the line and chased them back to the safety zone. They laid out each chute, checking the fabric for tears and evidence of stress. They looked over every centimeter of cord for fraying and each buckle for damage. Once they were determined that the parachute was safe to use it was passed to Maru and Patch who used their dexterity to fold the parachute into a complex, origami package, that would hopefully unfold when they jumped out of the plane.

No, the thing that had Pinecone so unnerved was the songs that they choose to sing as they worked. They crooned about unfaithful spouses and broken romances. They belted ballads about downed aircraft and burnovers, but they ended the evening with a piece of music that was clearly one of their absolute favorites. And for the life of her Pinecone couldn't figure out why they liked it so much. Each of the packing team had sung a verse about what it would be like to have a chute fail, then they all joined in on the chorus…though it was difficult to hear anyone's voice over the sound of cacophony that Avalanche was making.

" _GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE_

_WITH THE CORD AROUND YOUR DRIVE SHAFT_

_AS YOU'RE FALLING THROUGH THE SKY_

_GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE_

_AND HE AIN'T GONNA JUMP NO MORE!"_

Maru cleared his throat and took his turn, a somewhat sadistic smile crossing his face. His tines waved in the air keeping time as he sang.

" _The ambulance was on the spot; the jeeps were running wild,_

_The medics rocked and screamed with glee, they rubbed their tines and smiled,_

_For it had been a week or more since last a chute had failed,_

_He ain't going to jump no more."_

"Won't Cabbie get offended?" Pinecone whispered to Patch trying not to interrupt what was clearly some sort of smokejumper tradition.

"Why would he?" Patch yawned as she slipped another buckle in place.

"They are singing about people dying a horrible death when they jump out of a plane!"

"Who do you think taught them the song in the first place?" Patch clucked. When Pinecone gave the dispatcher a blank look, she motioned vaguely in the direction of the large green hanger that house the cargo plane. "Cabbie." Pinecone looked like a piece of her world had just evaporated, and Patch sighed with a touch of exasperation. "Don't worry dearly; you will get used to it sooner or later."

" _GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE,_

_WITH THE CORD AROUND YOUR DRIVE SHAFT_

_AS YOU'RE FALLING THROUGH THE SKY_

_GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE_

_AND HE AIN'T GONNA JUMP NO MORE!"_

Pinecone was still kind of stunned that their ride had taught the Smokejumpers such a terrible song. She was about to ask Patch another question in the vain attempt to make sense of the situation, but everyone inside the hanger hushed as Dynamite took up the song. Her crisp alto slowing the tempo and commanding everyone's full attention, as she reverently sang her verse.

" _There was oil upon the risers; there were gears upon the chute,_

_Hydraulics were a-dangling from his paratrooper suit_

_He was a mess, they picked him up, and poured breaks from his boot_

_He ain't going to jump no more."_

The whole group of smokejumpers launched into the chorus one last time, with enthusiasm undampened by their inability to sing on key. Their combined voices in the enclosed space were almost deafening.

" _GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE,_

_WITH THE CORD AROUND YOUR DRIVE SHAFT_

_AS YOU'RE FALLING THROUGH THE SKY_

_GORY, GORY, WHAT A HELL OF A WAY TO DIE_

_AND HE AIN'T GONNA JUMP NO MORE,_

_OH, HE AIN'T GONNA JUMP NO MORE!"_

The last strains of the morbid song echoed around the room for a few long moments. Then Avalanche started in another one of the strange songs to a mixed reaction from the rest of the crew. Some simply gave an eye roll at his off-key singing. Others joined in, even though their voices were completely drowned out by the dozer. Pinecone, just watched the rest of her team with fascination.

" _C ONE NINETEEN ROLLING DOWN THE STRIP_

_UNCLE CADDIES GOING TO MAKE A LITTLE TRIP_

_FIVE SMOKEJUMPERS ARE STRAPPED INSIDE_

_WE'RE GOING TO KEEP TOURISTS FROM GETTING FRIED_

_WHEN OUR PLANE GETS UP SO HIGH_

_SMOKEJUMPERS TAKE TO THE SKY!"_

"I'm still not your Uncle!" Caddie's shout from his own hanger broke the momentary silence on base and caused the entire crew of jumpers to instantly dissolve into giggles.

"Well, troops." Dynamite smirked at her team. "Mission accomplished, now let's go hit the hanger. While I don't think we will have any good fires in the next couple of day, I bet Mother Nature will at least give us a good landslide or two to work with."

As they headed back to the barracks, Pinecone couldn't help but shake her head. After this evening she was pretty sure that the entire smokejumper team was completely insane, but as she watched roughhousing across the tarmac Pinecone had to admit she loved them. And the next time the night was stormy and parachute packing party took place, Pinecone joined the chorus and vowed to learn some of the verses of the songs the smokejumpers sang.

* * *

 

_**Aviation Note:**  Today's story is a great example of the use of jodies by a group. These songs have historically been used to build teamwork and aid with training of military and paramilitary organizations. In this particular story, I chose to modify two well known Air Force jodies. The first one is called Blood Upon The Risers. That particular song dates back to the paratrooper units of WWII and is officially supposed to about a rookie paratrooper who doesn't check his chute correctly and ends up falling to his death as a result. As a result, this song was both sung with a morbid sense of humor and as a tool to remind everyone to be vigilant maintaining their jump equipment. The second jodie in this piece is officially known as C130 Rolling Down The Strip. This jodie was introduced during the Vietnam War. Both jodies have aged well and have be come cannon in the Air Force. They are particularly popular among Junior ROTC and Civil Air Patrol Cadets as they lack the more adult content of many other well-worn jodies._

 


	2. Ghost Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dusty is grounded in a meadow during a stormy night and discovers just how real ghost stories can be. Requested by RevyCaitEll and contains a borrowed character from ObsidianJade's Hallowed Series.

"I don't believe in ghosts." Dusty's comment cut through the voices cut through the chatter in the main hanger, causing the assorted members of the Air Attack Team to stop what they were doing and giving him a hard to read look. "I mean they are not real, right?"

No one really seemed like they wanted to answer that particular question. Avalanche was slowly trying to scoot out of the hanger. Pinecone and Blackout had managed to find themselves a nice corner to hide. Windlifter and Cabbie gave a long look at each other across the chessboard they had been strategizing over, and Drip looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. The only sound was a soft chuckle Maru, who had started rummaging around in the kitchen…most likely to find some popcorn.

Finally, Blade took pity on their most junior member of their team, unlocked his breaks, and rolled away from the table covered with maps that he had been working on. "Champ. What exactly brought up this line of conversation?"

"Well…" Dusty chewed on his lip nervously. "Drip was telling me a story about a Cessna who had got blinded in the smoke of a fire near here and missed the runway, and he was trying to convince me that she was still haunting the place…Which isn't possible…right…" As Dusty spoke, it was clear that he was getting less and less confident in his response.

Blade sighed and turned his attention to where Windlifter and Cabbie were parked. "So which one of you boys want to be the one wants to be the base historian tonight?"

"I might as well." Windlifter answered after an uncomfortably long pause.

"I join you." Cabbie rolled away from the game table, causing Windlifter to give him a raised eyebrow. Cabbie just shrugged his flaps. "The sooner we get this over with, the quicker we can get back to our game."

Windlifter apparently couldn't come up with a good reason for Cabbie to not join the conversation, so he motioned both planes towards the hanger door.

"This space is not good for telling tells." The Skycrane explained as he slipped into the night.

* * *

It was not until Dusty had entered Windlifer's hanger that he realized that he had never been in there before. While Dusty's hanger-on base was a drab space that was obviously used for storage when they didn't have a trainee on base, Windlifter's hanger was a beautifully decorated well-appointed space. The concrete floor was stained in an earth red and brown basket weave design. His walls were draped with tapestries depicting trees and wildlife and the hanger even had a potbelly stove that Windlifter immediately rolled over to stoke back to life.

Dusty was still gawking at the space when Cabbie rolled in and closed the hanger door behind him. With the two biggest members of the Air Attack Team in the hanger the space really should have felt cramped, but somehow the decoration made it feel cozy instead. The little plane allowed himself to relax a little and allow the heat from the fire to chase away the chill of the autumn air.

"You were not expecting this were you?" Cabbie gave a rumbling chuckle at Dusty's reaction.

"No." Dusty more mouthed then said.

"Windlifter has a whole lot more surprises up his sleeve than he will ever let on, but you can blame this particular one on his wife."

"Windlifter's married!" Dusty spluttered.

"Yes, I am and have been for nearly the last decade." The Skycrane stated as though the fact should have been completely obvious, Cabbie just smiled like he had just swallowed a canary.

"So your family, that is where you have been disappearing during the middle of the week now that the official fire season is over?" Dusty asked, giving a low whistle.

"That, and I am needed in the classroom."

Dusty stared at the Skycrane with confusion so Cabbie took it upon himself to elaborate. "Windlifter here is a creative writing professor at the local community college." That comment got Cabbie a good glare, which only seemed to put the C-119 in a good mood. "Well, now that is taken care of why don't we turn our attention to this evening's main event?"

Windlifter gave a huff, but cleared his throat and settled on his tires in preparation of his tale. "For as long as vehicles have traversed the mountains of Piston Peak, there have been those who have spoken of the spirits that haunt these hills. Some speak of Po-ho-no, the evil wind that lures plane and car alike to the edge of cliffs only to push smash to the base and consume their souls. Others speak of hearing a young car which drowned in Anchor Lake calling for help or hear the rumble of ancient engines along long abandoned trails. Then," Windlifter gave Cabbie an annoyed look, "there are some vehicles that insist that a ghost from their own culture exist here."

"Oh, I know this base has a gremlin!" Cabbie waggled his tails with good humor, and then glanced with mock conspiracy at Dusty. "I am just not sure if it Drip or Maru yet."

"Anyway," Windlifter rolled his eyes, "perhaps we should start by telling the stories of the various ghosts said to haunt the Long Tree Campground. According to legend the campground sits on what was once an native burial ground and was uses as a cemetery for local citizens until 1906 when Piston Peaks officially became a national park…"

Windlifter and Cabbie never did end up finishing their chess game. Instead the two aircraft told stories of Piston Peak's ghosts well into the night.

* * *

Dusty awoke the next morning to the sound of thunder and the smell of coffee. After a moment he realized that the sound of thunder was actually the thrum of Windlifter taking off outside. The little plane yawned and almost allowed himself to drift back to sleep, when odd feeling of an unfamiliar sleeping mat beneath his tires made him realized that he wasn't sleeping in his own hanger. His eyes instantly sprang wide open.

"I was wondering when you are going to start moving?" Cabbie nudged the lukewarm mug of coffee towards Dusty, then scooted back to give the SEAT some room.

"What?"

"Everyone was wondering when you were going to wake up and join us. You have already missed breakfast and if you don't hurry you will miss Blade's morning pep talk."

"Alright, alright." Dusty yawned. "I will be out in a minute."

Even though Dusty was now awake it didn't mean that all of his wheels where spinning yet. Cabbie took this in stride. He gave the smaller plane a nudge with his wing before heading out the open door. Once on the tarmac he called back to Dusty. "Make sure to close the hanger door when you come out. We wouldn't want to let the gremlin into Windlifter's space."

The rhythm of working the shoulder of the fire season was significantly different than training in the middle of one. For one thing, the crew was a lot smaller. Dipper had flow off a week ago in order to get to the Caribbean in time to get retrofitted for her winter job as a fuel tanker. Cabbie had dropped Dynamite and Patch off at the closest regional airport. The ATV was heading to the Southeast to mark trees all winter for the Forest Service, and Patch headed off to Colorado where she would work dispatch at a ski resort all winter.

In addition to the vehicles that had left for the season there were a few who were splitting their time between multiple jobs. Windlifter was spending his weekdays teaching and his weekends on base. Blackout was spending half of his time on the county fire service fighting structural fires and the rest of his time in the park. Cabbie seemed be constantly called up to bring shipments of cargo in the park, while the endless list of tasks was causing him to consume an ridiculous amount of fuel, the work seemed to be suiting the C-119 just fine.

With so many members of the Air Attack team either gone or being pulled in so many directions. Dusty was finding himself getting lonely. He even almost missed having Dipper around, which of course greatly amused Maru. Even though the base kind of seemed dead that was apparently during a normal year, pretty much everyone, except for Blade and Maru, would be off base by mid-October. Blade and Maru would be the only ones manning the base until Cabbie returned in mid-November to support the winter construction season.

The reason why the pattern of staffing had changed so much this year was funding. After over half of the park got burned to a cinder, the park service had secured some extra funds which allowed them to keep most of the team working well into the fall to replant the forests and help to manage the extreme landslide risk.

Today, Dusty had been assigned to help the remaining smokejumpers plant a hillside. After making a few passes putting down the seed and mulch mixture, the small plane suspected he had been give that assignment because of his vast experience crop dusting. This was because putting down seed mulch was a whole lot more spraying a field verse fighting a fire. It was a pretty boring job, but it gave him a chance to ask Avalanche a question that had bugged him all morning.

"'Lanche, what is a Gremlin?" Dusty called to the dozer over one of the personal channels when he had sent Drip and Pinecone down the mountain to

"WHY DO YOU ASK?"

"It is nothing really, just something that Cabbie mentioned."

"AH." Avalanche nodded slightly, as though Dusty's comment explained everything. "THAT EXPLAINS A LOT. GREMLINS ARE MOSTLY A WWII MILITARY PLANE THING, THOUGH SOME OF THE PLANES FROM KOREA OR EVEN FROM THE VIETNAM WAR SEEMED TO BELIEVE IN THEM. THIS KIND OF GHOST OR SPIRIT BASICALLY EXCLUSIVELY LIVES IN HAUNTED CLOUDS OR HANGERS AND WERE MOSTLY KNOWN FOR JUST BEING ANNOYING BUT HAVE BEEN CREDITED FOR CAUSING A WHOLE LOT OF DAMAGE AND EVEN OCCASIONALLY KILLING AIRCRAFT."

Listening to Avalanche's description, Gremlins seemed like they were a whole lot scarier than what Cabbie had initially described. Dusty couldn't help but feel a knot of worry building deep in his gears box. "And do you think that they exist?"

"PROBABLY NOT." Avalanche shrugged. "AS I SAID, GREMLINS ARE REALLY AN OLD MILITARY PLANE THING. IF THEY WERE REALLY DON'T YOU THINK THAT ALL PLANES WOULD BE WORRIED ABOUT THEM?"

Avalanche's comment made sense, but it didn't exactly convince him that Cabbie's fervent belief in the creatures was completely wrong. Still, Dusty didn't push the conversation any further. Drip and Pinecone were coming up the hill, each weighed down with a load of seedlings and it was time to get back to work.

* * *

It would take three more days before the subject of ghosts came up again. During that time a series of storms swept through the park leaving things soggy. The wet weather and high winds left Dusty stuck at base with Maru while the rest of the Attack Team either worked or brought in supplies to fight an alarmingly high number of landslides.

While on one level it felt like he was being left behind by his team, but then Dusty would see just how caked in mud and half frozen the jump team were when they were pulled off the line for a break or just exhausted was when Cabbie finally got his tires back on the tarmac an hour after dusk. Under those conditions, Dusty understood why Maru desperately a vehicle around that the mechanic could call on to go heat up a couple of mugs of tea or to chase the jumpers out of the power washer so that could actually get some sleep in their hanger instead of under the sprayers.

That said, in the late afternoons when the rest of the team was busy and Maru was catching a few precious hours of shut eye, Dusty was quickly becoming bored out of his mind. This caused the SEAT to take on responsibilities around base that he would normally avoid. At the moment that meant sweeping out the mine hanger while casually listening into the radios.

The radio chatter was pretty normal. There was the nearly constant hum of the jumper's chatter, which was interrupted by Avalanche and occasionally Blade forcing them to get back on task. Then there was the thrum of the road crew's conversations and the clip of the interpretive rangers creating a soothing sea of sound. Every once in a while another familiar voice would pop out of the wall on noise. He would hear Cabbie requesting to land at the lodge airstrip or Pulaski making calls for the construction crew putting in the park's new fuel tanks.

Dusty had pretty much finished removing mud that the smokejumpers had dragged into the main hanger last night, and was considering following Maru's example and catching a nap. Then something on the radio caught Dusty's attention. It was a series of words that would cause a level of dread in any aircraft.

"Pan, Pan, Pan. This is a park wide alert, this is a park wide alert. Report of missing vehicle, last seen at the La Parrila trail head. Missing vehicle is an underage blue sedan with a white pin strip, not street legal yet. Separated from his group approximately 4 hours ago. Heightened level of concern due to active landsides in the immediate vicinity of last sighting. Pan, Pan, Pan… " The law enforcement ranger speaking on the park's emergency frequency continued to repeat the message, notifying every member of the park's ranger enforcement team of the danger.

Dusty listened to the message at least two more times, not knowing what else to do he, kind of froze. He was trying to figure out what in the world he was suppose to do with this information. Firefighting vehicles were considered to be part of the enforcement ranger team, and thus should be responding to this emergency but he had been ordered to stay on base and help out.

Luckily for Dusty, Maru was a light sleeper and had been woken by the pan, pan announcement on the radio. He rolled into the main hanger at nearly his top speed and keyed the Air Attack Team's private channel.

"Blade, I am assuming that you have been listening into the traffic."

" _Roger that."_  In the background, one could hear that the Chief's blades were fully spun up and he was heading somewhere fast. _"The Jumpers and I are heading to the lodge to report into the search headquarters. When you get the chance, please send Dusty in that direction. I have a feeling we will be using him for this mission."_

* * *

While the airstrip was actually pretty clear, when Dusty headed over to the newly constructed incident command center he found it choked with vehicles. The SEAT stared are the clumps of cars and other ground craft trying to figure out where he fit in the organizational structure, when he spotted Blade on the far side of the large room. It took a while to fight his way over, ground vehicles never really understood just how delicate wings were, but eventually he was able to roll up to the Chief.

"There you are Champ." Blade commented without even to bother looking up from the aviation map he was studying. "I was wondering how long it would take you to get here." Dusty was about to protest, but Blade didn't give him a chance. "Right now it looks like we are the only two aircraft available for the search, though we will be able to pull Cabbie to help after he gets his current load of cargo on the ground and refuels. That said, I am hoping that will have found the kid by then. The ground vehicles are going to have the trails pretty much covered. Our job is to check the back country."

"Okay, Chief tell me what we need to do."

"We are going to divide the airspace and defeat the problem. Dusty, I want you fly along the base of the cliffs to make sure that our lost car didn't accidently fall of the trail." Blade didn't add 'too their death' but that was pretty much implied. "Once you have searched the cliff face and base you will fly a low grid of the valley floor looking for any evidence of our misplaced guest. I will doing a similar pattern covering the territory on the top of the cliff."

"What will Cabbie be doing?"

"I know he is certified for doing low level flying, but it always makes me a bit nervous to have a bird that big flying low and slow in mountainous terrain. I am planning on having him do high level recon of the area and provide highbird coverage for both the air and ground team." Blade stated, then looked Dusty levelly in the eyes. "Everything make sense?

"Yes, Chief." Dusty nodded.

"Then what are you waiting for, let's head out and get the job done."

* * *

The weather was less than ideal for flight when Blade and Dusty took off from the lodge, at it only got worse as the pair worked their assigned search grids. By the time that Cabbie joined them, the two were tired and tense from fighting the ever shifting winds of an incoming storm.

" _Patch, can we get a weather update."_  Blade radioed finally feed up with the lack of information he was getting from dispatch.

"Patch isn't on base anymore." Dusty timidly reminded the Chief.

" _Chrysler."_  Blade actually swore over the Air Attack channel, before switching to the general emergency frequency.  _"Mission base this is, Blade Ranger. I need a weather update immediately."_

" _Looks like it is going to be cloudy with an expected drop in temperature. There is an alert that there could be high winds expected in the vicinity..."_  A tired sounding dispatcher rattled off a report, probably one he was reading off a computer screen.

" _And why were the search teams not notified about this?"_ Blade was clearly livid with the error.

" _They were not expected to be high enough to cause issues for the ground search."_  The dispatcher snipped back clearly not realizing who he was talking too.

" _Did you ever consider the fact that there was an aerial search also taking place…"_

" _Microburst!"_  Cabbie barked cutting off Blade's rant.

" _Everyone pull up!"_  The Chief shouted without a moment's hesitation as they watched Cabbie plummeting downward, dragged down by rush of deadly wind.

Dusty barely had time pull up on the stick when he too was hit by the terrifying wall of down drafts and tail winds swallowed him. It to every ounce of the SEAT's engine power and control to keep from being smashed into the nearby cliffs or the valley floor below him, even so, he the wind had pushed him down far enough that his wing tips had almost touched a rocky outcrop. For a moment Dusty was convinced that he was about to die, murdered by the hundred plus mile an hour winds was threatening to shove him into the ground. Then little aircraft redlined his engine, and burst out of the chaotic winds of the down draft and into the relative calm of the surrounding storm.

" _Dusty, Cabbie, are both of you okay?"_  Blade sounded strong, but it was clear that the air boss was pretty shaken.

Dusty only managed to choke out a strangled, "Yes Sir," but Cabbie was able to give a better report.  _"Alive, though I think the high winds may have bent my elevator. I am having a bit of trouble staying level."_

" _Good."_  Blades relief was palpable.  _"Air operations are now grounded. Land as quickly as physically possible, I don't care if that means you land in a meadow, a road, or a camp ground parking lot as long as there is solid ground under your tires. If there is one microburst, chances are there will be others and this operation is not worth die for."_

" _Sir, the lodge is going to be my quickest landing spot."_  Cabbie voice was tight as he tried to compensate for his damaged tail.

" _Understood. Dusty, have you located a possible landing location?"_

Dusty glanced around trying to find a possible landing site. As soon as he spotted one, he radioed in. "I have my eyes on a meadow two clicks to my right."

" _Roger that. I we discuss commencing flight operations again once the weather clears, but until then good luck."_  Blade wished his two crewmates. As Dusty landed in burned out meadow, he really hoped he didn't need it.

* * *

Turned out, Blade was dead on. The winds did in fact, get worse. Trapped on the ground there was little that Dusty could do other then turn his nose into the wind and pray that an unexpected gust would flip him on his back…or eat his soul…

This is ridiculous, Dusty thought to himself as started down that line of thought. There is no way that he should be frightened of a little wind…right. Then the stories that Windlifter had told him about Po-ho-no kept on popping into his head, and Dusty swallowed hard. If the evil wind was real, then it had succeeded at its first mission. While the microburst hadn't caused Dusty to crash, it had forced him to the ground at the base of a cliff. If the stories were true, the next thing would be a great howling wind would come looking for him.

The roar of another microburst hitting in the vicinity, started Dusty so bad he leaked a puddle of oil. As the rush of wind headed towards him, the little plane tried to slow his breathing and calm his shaking. Perhaps if he stood really still Po-ho-no wouldn't notice him and pass him by. Around him he could hear the wind snapping branches and crash of falling timber as burned trees were pushed to the ground.

As wind approached, Dusty squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, but he couldn't stop himself from shaking. Still, the evil wind apparently didn't notice him. A dust filled breeze did sweep across his wings and fuselage, but when Dusty blinked his eyes opened, he wasn't dead. At least he didn't think he was dead. The little plane gave himself a few minutes for his breath even out a bit, then he keyed his radio.

"Dusty to Mission Base." The SEAT called desperate for contact with the outside world. All that answered him was broken static.

"Dusty to anyone who can hear me. Please respond." Dusty pleaded, but he was only greeted by more static.

"Slag." Dusty swore to himself. With is antennas mounted to his belly, there was no way for him to hit the repeater. Without the repeater, Dusty was completely unable make radio calls to the rest of the world. As the stormy skies darkened to the deep black of starless night, it took all of the little SEAT's will to keep from panicking.

* * *

As the night wore on it became harder and harder for Dusty to gauge the how much time had passed. He would feel like he had sat there for an eternity, but when he glanced down at his gauges it was clear that he had only sat there for a couple of minutes. Not knowing what else to do, Dusty started to prattle to himself. At first he tried to tell himself little stories or hum quietly, but it didn't take long for his sounds to devolve into pure gibberish.

Then, when it seemed nothing else could go bad, Dusty blew a fuse and his lighting popped out.

"No, no, no! This can't be happening!" Dusty's voice pitched upward as his panic truly set in. "Come on lights, don't fail me now."

The little SEAT tried to find a way to reset his lighting system, but it was in vain. His electrical system was dead, and Dusty was trapped alone in the dark.

* * *

Dusty wasn't exactly sure when he had stopped talking to himself. Ever since his running lights had failed and he was left unable to see his gauges time had kind of ceased to exist. All that the little plane could do was sit alone in the burned out meadow and wait for morning to come. His only company was wind whistling through trees that were hiding in the surrounding gloom and the sound of his own hydraulics pounding in his ears. Occasionally a particularly strong zephyr would throw itself against Dusty and he would find himself shuttering against the twigs and grit that the wind slammed against him.

At some point the gritty winds were hitting Dusty with such regularity, that the plane kept finding himself holding his breath and squeezing his eyes shut to try to protect himself from the blowing ash as he pointed his nose into the gusts. Realizing that, he blinked his eyes open and glanced around. Dusty had expected to be greeted by nothing but darkness and to be able to slam his eyes shut again. Instead he was able to pick out a couple of pinpricks of light dancing deep in the forest.

"It is just a Deere, it is just a Deere, it is just a Deere." Dusty muttered to himself trying to calm his pounding pumps, but even as he spoke he had a hard time believe his own words. Even though Dusty hadn't grown up in the forest, he had been in Piston Peak long enough to know that Deere, even injured ones, didn't move like that. Plus the wild vehicles tended avoid the burned out areas of the forest.

Dusty closed his eyes again, hoping that when he opened his eyes again he would realize that the lights were just a figure of his imagination. But when he did, he realized that a new sound had entered the forest. It was a creaking, scrapping sound…like a slow moving landside or dying trees. When Dusty opened his eyes again a determined that both the sound and the lights were coming towards him, the aircraft determined that he was pretty much doomed.

* * *

Dusty sat as still and quietly as he could, silently watching as the lights inched closer to him and trying not to cringe as the screeching noise kept getting louder and louder. Finally, when the SEAT could stand it no longer, Dusty took a deep breath and called to the lights that where clearly searching for him in the woods.

"Who is there!?" Dusty yelled. He heard his own voice echoing across the cliffs but for several long moments there was no reply. Then a thin, but rumbling voice replied on the wind.

"It depends who is asking." The words drifted through the woods so quietly that Dusty could barely hear them over the howl of the wind.

"Um…" Dusty muttered not quite sure what to say next. He hadn't expected for the ghost to talk back to him. The plane gulped down several breaths of air trying to steady himself before shouting back. "I am Dusty. I am an air racer and a fire fighter and I am not really sure what else you need to know…"

"It might be nice for you to start with why in the world you are in my forest." This time the voice got a bit louder. The light that seemed to be related to it flashed brightly, before diming to a deep unsettling red. Only then did the voice give off a low hiss. "I don't take kindly to unexpected visitors."

"Wait I can explain…" Dusty stammered as he tried to slowly back away from the clearly pissed of creature in the woods.

"BOO!" Another voice crackled across the radio channels.

The sudden noise cause Dusty's scream of terror to echo across the cliffs before the plane passed out.

* * *

The plane awoke next to a red dawn and the distant thunder of helicopter blades. At first Dusty thought he must have fallen asleep on the tarmac, and the surrounding elements had caused him to have nightmares. Then he smelled scent of breakfast cooking and the crackle of an open flame, which lead him to crack one of his eyes open. He was still in the burned out meadow, but he was no longer alone.

"Looks like sleeping beauty has finally decided to join us." Drip gave him a lopsided grin as he happily roasted a marshmallow over the coals.

The comment caused, Blackout to roll into Dusty's view. It was hard to miss the smokejumper's sheepish grin. "You, amigo, are significantly more fun to scare than most of base."

"Though not quite as fun as giving Dipper a good jump." Drip sat back on his treads, a dreamy look in his eyes. "She is hilarious when properly startled."

It took a few moments for Dusty to start really tracking what the smaller vehicles were talking about. Then everything clicked into place. "You guys were the monster in the woods!?"

"Yep." Drip gave a big, toothy grin.

"But how…" Dusty started, then realized that he had asked the wrong question the moment that the words left his mouth and asked a different question. "Why?"

"Bueno…" Blackout, shrugged a bit nervously. Drip on the other hand didn't seem to share his fellow smokejumper's level of guilt.

"The whole thing started when no one could get a hold of you after you landed. We weren't particularly worried, your radio antenna is on your underside and Blade had seen you land and all, but the Chief thought it might be a good idea for a couple of ground pounders to head down to the meadow you had parked yourself in and check up on you."

"But that still doesn't explain…" Dusty stared at the two ground pounders with a blank stare.

"What we scared the oil out of you?" Blackout tried to add helpfully.

"Sure, we will go with that."

"Well…" Drip gave Blackout a slid long glance before continuing. "Avalanche and Pinecone were busy on the top of the ridge getting the missing kid out of the tree that he had managed to wedge himself in, when the Chief asked someone to go and check out you. So we volunteered. Your spot beacon is on so it wasn't difficult to track you down, even at night. When we noticed that you were sitting alone in the forest, in the dark, with no running lights on we knew that it was the perfect set up. And you totally know the rest."

Drip sat there smiling up at Dusty as though he had just bought a candy store or something, which left the aircraft a bit unnerved. The SEAT was kind of debating what to say next, when he was rescued by the whine helicopters on final approach. Glancing up he noticed that both helos had slings attached, which made Dusty bet that they were there to get Drip and Blackout hom.

"How was your first night in the wilderness?" Blade asked Dusty once his wheels were firmly on the ground and his rotors had slowed to a stop.

"It was alright." Dusty tried to down play the terror he had gone through. There was no way he was going to admit just how badly Drip and Blackout had frightened him to anyone, and especially not Blade. That said, it was clear that the Chief could tell that Dusty wasn't spilling everything and the big helicopter wasn't going to give him some space to breath until he gave a little more information. "I just found out was the butt of the Smokejumper's pranks last night."

The Drip and Blackout stiffened at Dusty's comment and immediately refused to make eye contact with anyone. This of course, made Blade wheel himself right in front of them to stare down the smaller vehicles.

"What have I told you about playing pranks on other members of the team?" If Blade's glare didn't tell the smokejumpers that they were in trouble, his tone of voice did.

"Not to get caught?" Blackout said after a pregnant pause.

"That would be what Maru told you." Windlifter rumbled, before Blade had a chance to chastise them some more. Blade chose to turn his attention to Dusty instead.

"Are you able to get back on your own power?"

"I should." Dusty gave his propeller an experimental turn. "I blew a fuse to my lighting systems last night, but it doesn't seem to be affecting anything else."

"Alright then." Blade gave Dusty a sharp look. "Windlifter and I will clear the area to give you the airspace that you need to take off, but if you are not back to base within 10 minutes of us landing I am coming back to check on you."

"Yes sir." Dusty bobbed, as the two helicopters spun up their engines to full power leaving Dusty alone in the burned out meadow. But the little plane was determined not to stay there for long. As soon as the ash and dust settled enough for him to be able to see, Dusty spun up his own propeller. At this point he was craving a mug of the black firehouse brew and the safety of his own hanger. His engine purring, Dusty took to the sky, confident that if he hurried he could beat the two aircraft back to base.

* * *

Even though Dusty would have preferred to be resting in his own hanger, when his tires hit the tarmac at the Piston Peak Air Attack Base Maru made it clear had a different plan. Dusty had almost instantly been ushered to the shelter of mechanic's hanger where Maru popped his cowling and started looking for the source of the planes electrical issues. It didn't take the tug long to determine not only which fuse had burned out, but also that he didn't have the needed part in stock.

Maru had trundled off to try to figure out how quickly he could find a replacement part, which fortunately left Dusty cowl still propped open in the repair bay. At least he had good company though. Cabbie was currently sitting on the apron just outside of the hanger, half of his tail disassembled.

"One sheared bolt and you would think it was the end of the world." Cabbie shrugged when Dusty eyed the big planes tails. "But that is Maru for you."

"Still seems kind of odd for him to leave a job half done." Dusty wiggled his nose has he spoke, trying to get the piece of metal holding his cowling open loose so he could get the covering closed.

"Naw." The C-119 yawned. "With all of the aircraft of base needing to make emergency landings last night, and with one of them being out of radio contact for practically the entire night, I doubt that Maru got a wink of sleep. He has earned the right to be a bit scatterbrained this morning. Plus you with the storm that came through last night, the risk of fires is practically nil."

Not knowing what else to say, Dusty changed the subject. "So have the Smokejumpers ever tried scaring you?"

"Not yet." Cabbie took a thoughtful sip of coffee. "To start, I don't scare easily. Then there is the fact my Jumpers usually have enough common sense not to do something that might accidently harm their ride. They mainly pull little pranks on me like trying to make prank calls or wandering off with the paper. Drip can be quite the kleptomaniac when he is bored." The plane sighed. "I am assuming you are asking the question because the jumpers have been up to some sort of mischief."

"Pretty much." Dusty admitted quietly, before filling the cargo aircraft on what had happened the night before. The SEAT was a bit worried that Cabbie would look down at Dusty for being scared so badly, C-119 seemed more amused by the story than anything else.

"What did I tell you?" Cabbie gave a fully bellied chuckle. "While I have no clue whether or not Piston Peak's is haunted, I know for a fact that our base has a gremlin or two."

* * *

_**Aviation Note:**  I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at a ghost story. It was kind of fun, even if there was no actual supernatural creatures involved. In order to write this story I did end on doing a boat load of research on the ghosts are said to haunt national parks. For example, Po-ho-no wasn't something that Windlifter made up, but an actual legend of an evil wind that pulls people to their deaths in Yosemite National Park. And like in this story, the legend of Po-ho-no my be based in fact. Strong down drafts, such as microbursts, have been recorded in the area of the park which Po-ho-no has been said to inhabit. Well, that is a wrap. If you have any other ideas for short stories in the planes universe please drop me a line. I am always on the hunt for a good plot bunny._


	3. Avalanche

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Piston Peak's Road Crew was hit by an emergency and Maru, Blade, and Cabbie must come to the rescue!

Maru tried to stifle a yawn as he stared out the window Piston Peak Air Attack Tower at the falling snow beyond. At moments like these he couldn't help but wonder why in the world he had volunteered for winter duty once again, because it many ways it could be even more stressful than his work during the summer. During the fire season the mechanic at least knew that had a whole crew of vehicles watching out for each other's safety and that everyone was in for the night. In the middle of avalanche season, there were just three of them on base and Cabbie, the oldest aircraft in the Park's fleet, could be called up to fly avalanche abatement missions at anytime of the day or night.

While Maru didn't technically have to be up whenever Cabbie flew for the park's road crew, the old C-119 had flown these types of missions with limited air support for close to a decade before Blade and Maru had been stationed at Piston Peak, it still made the mechanic nervous to have an aircraft that old flying explosives without some sort of ground support. Unfortunately for Maru this sometimes meant staying up for two or three days straight just to make sure that the runway stayed clear during the worst storms.

This past storm had been a particularly bad one. It had begun with an icy rain that had coated everything from roads to runways with black ice and left a brittle layer on top to the snow which threatened tear up rubber tires. Then the bulk of the storm had blown in bringing heavy wet snow had brought down trees and power lines all over the park. By day four of the storm, a pair of Avalanches had closed the main road out V6 Valley and it had taken 56 hours for the park's road crew with help from the state highway dozers to open a path up to the lodge.

Luckily, the worst of the storm had past, which was finally allowing Cabbie and the road crew to clear the snow from some of the parks most outlying roads. With the rate they were currently moving snow there was a pretty good chance that they were going to be able to have a chance to relax a little before the next band of snow moved through. Maru was just about to go find himself some breakfast when his thoughts were interrupted.

" _Mechanic!"_  A voice crackled across the park wide emergency frequency.  _"Road crew is going are going to need a mechanic ASAP!"_

Not wanting to clutter up the emergency frequency, Maru made a call on the Air Attack channel to a vehicle that he knew was monitoring it. "Cabbie! What is going on?"

" _Avalanche in Augerin Canyon."_  Cabbie responded using his clipped, thing have really hit the fan voice.  _"Looks like a sheet of snow approximately a half mile wide let go from the east side of Rail Ridge. There were three members of the road crew on that stretch when it hit, two were damaged but are responding to radio communication the third is not responding to hails."_

"Did he go over one of the cliffs?"

" _Unknown."_  The planes voice was tight with concern. Then there was a crackle and pause which indicated that Cabbie had switched channels before he jumped back to the Air Attack frequency.  _"Is Blade up? The Road Boss is asking for a consultation."_

"Not at the moment, but that is easily changed." Maru was already grabbing his mobile radio and steeling himself to face the cold. "I will be out of the tower for a bit, page me if you me."

So much for a relaxing winter's day.

* * *

From Maru's perspective it seemed like Blade took every opportunity he could to catch up on his sleep during the long winter months. Not that the mechanic really blamed him. While helicopters could technically fly under these types of wintery conditions, they didn't fly particularly well. Their hydraulic systems were prone to collect ice and there rotors were liable to snap under the weight of a heavy snow fall. Then there was the whole issue of landing on snow, Blades' tires weren't exactly designed to give him good traction on icy tarmac and were practically useless in more than three or four inches of snow.

Even though Blade wasn't the most equipped type of aircraft for the harsh winter weather that Piston Peak National Park often experience, he was at least excellent at the search and rescue part of the job. Maru suspected that it was the Chief's ability to locate tourists who had gotten lost on snowy trails quickly that was the only reason why Cad hadn't made a fuss about Blade being a year round resident of the park.

"Rise and shine!" The mechanic said throwing open the doors on Blade's hanger. As he did, Maru could literally see the helicopter jump when the cold air hit him.

"What do you want, Maru?" Blade nearly growled as he sleepily glared at the tug.

"There has been an emergency. The Road Boss is asking for a consult." As Maru spoke, Blades entire posture changed as he became laser focused on the mission in front of them.

"Cabbie." The Chief asked as he worked to warm up his rotors.

"Not effected, currently on scene giving areal support." Maru immediately rattled off. "There was an avalanche in Augerin Canyon, which hit a three man crew. Two of the vehicle have called in and reported injuries. They have been unable get the third one to respond to calls."

"Let them know that I am on my way."

Then Blade was off to the showers to grab warm antifreeze rinse that would allow him to safely fly in these temperatures. Alone on the tarmac Maru decided to make a detour back to the tower. First he hit Cabbie's quarters, the unofficial social gathering spot once the main hanger had been winterized for the off season, and grabbed snacks to fuel him for the next couple of hours. Then he went to the mechanic's hanger and cracked on the heat, cause Maru had a sinking feeling he was going to need to us it, and if he was going to need to be tines deep in someone's engine the tug preferred to at least be warm while doing it.

* * *

By the time Maru got back to the tower, Blade and Cabbie were chattering back and forth on the Air Attack channel. Blade seemed to be shooting off questions as quickly as he could think of them. That said, the big plane's rapid fire responses were doing a pretty good job of keeping up. The Air Attack Chief didn't even bother paging the tower to inform Maru that he was ready to launch, instead the mechanic knew that Blade was preparing to leave the base because of the thunder of his revving engines.

Maru didn't really mind. He knew at the moment that every second counted. Everyone who worked the winter slopes knew the statistics. The probability for a vehicle surviving in an avalanche was about 85% if they were found in the first 15 minutes, that dropped to a 50-50 chance of being found alive at the 30 minute mark, and only 20% of found within an hour. Survival after the 2 hour mark was basically a miracle with most vehicles dying of suffocation, injuries, or hypothermia long before help reached them.

With numbers like that it was truly a mercy that members of the Park's Avalanche Team didn't get buried in the snow more often. Luckily a combination of training, experience, and common sense tended to keep the tractors, dozers, and graders safe. Sometimes the road crew would successfully go through years without a single employee getting stuck in a snow slide. Unfortunately, even the best team had the occasional bad day. At this point all Maru could do was pray that wouldn't be a fatality.

" _I have got the beacon. He didn't go over the cliff."_  Blade announced before biting out the GPS coordinates on the Park's emergency channel. At the Chief's words, Maru let go of a breath he didn't realize that he had been holding. If the greenny hadn't been swept into the chasm, then there was still hope that he would be repairable.

* * *

The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity. With every second the past the likelihood of finding the buried vehicle alive quickly slipped away. The parks radio frequencies had gotten frighteningly quiet.

"Cabbie. Go get Maru." Blades sharp command crackled cross the empty Air Attack Channel.

" _You have found him then."_  Cabbie asked, the roar that his engines made when he pushed them into a hard bank was audible behind his words.

"Yes we have, and the kid is in pretty bad shape." Helicopter sounded worried. "The road crew mechanic is down at lodge and with the roads as bad it is doubtful that he would make it here it time and it doesn't help that their mechanic a semi out of your weight class to carry."

The C-119 gave a grunt. "Maru it is then, and since I know that he is already listening into the channel. I am inbound to the Piston Peaks Air Attack Base. ETA is 5 minutes. I will plan on refueling while on the ground which should give you a good 15 minutes to pack up everything you need for an emergency field repair. Also pack your shoot. There isn't really a place for me to land out there, but there is plenty of space to drop you."

The knowledge that he was about to jump out of 'a perfectly good airplane' made the tug get a sinking feeling in his gas tank, but the mechanic didn't have time to dwell on it. Instead Maru let training click in.

"Rodger that." Maru replied without a second thought, then scampered down the ramp to collect his supplies. While his normal field repair kit was a good start, it was no match for this type of emergency.

* * *

Riding in the back of Cabbie it was abundantly clear that the C-119 was no passenger plane. While he had a considerable amount of space on in his haul, large to comfortable transport a small tank, it was not kitted out with any of the niceties of one of his more customer service focused brothers and sisters. There were no windows and there was just enough light for a vehicle to check his equipment straps by and not much else. A thick, non-skid rubber coating covered the decking and the bulkheads were painted a utilitarian gray. To be honest, the only reason why Cabbie's interior was painted at all was to try to prevent rust, and the gray paint was selected because it was cheap. Maru couldn't help but wonder if old plane's interior would have been painted pink if they had caught the wrong sale.

" _You better not be sleeping back there Maru."_  The big planes rumble interrupted the mechanic's musings.  _"Please unclip and get ready for the drop."_

Maru followed the aircraft's order and unhooked his safety line, which meant that only cord that connected him to the plane was his parachute ripcord. The fact that Cabbie had just opened his beavertail door and was currently nosing towards the ground also didn't help the situation.

" _Prepare for LAPES in 15 seconds."_

"Are you sure you couldn't just drop me off at the lodge or something…" Maru tried to stall the inevitable. His ride wasn't buying it though. He straightened out so he was flying only five feet off of the snowy ground.

" _Ready?"_

Maru opened his mouth inform Cabbie that there was no way in Slag that he would ever be ready to jump out of an aircraft, but before he had the chance to speak he found himself unceremoniously dumped in the snow. At some level the mechanic knew that that his landing had been a whole lot more complicated for Cabbie than it had for him, but that didn't mean that he had to let that sorry excuse for a cargo plane know.

"Why you Sopwith, Junker son of an Albatross! I should toss you into the slag heap the next time chance I get for that."

" _Roger that, I have noted in the logs that you have made it safely on the ground with your delightful personality intact."_  Cabbie voice was strained by the energy it was taking him to make the climb out of the steep mountain pass, but he still managed to give a soft chuckle.  _"I am informing the road crew of your coordinates and they will be sending a heavy to you momentarily to retrieve you."_

* * *

It took close to 15 minutes for a member of the road crew capable of retrieving Maru finally arrived. By that point Cabbie had managed to climb back up to a reasonable altitude. If the mechanic glanced up he could spot the distinctive two tailed shadow circling above him in the sky, but at the moment he was much focused on trying to get himself detangled from the parachute and out of the deep snow drift that Cabbie had dumped him in. The tug hadn't made much progress extracting himself when one of the parks twin all-terrain cranes and plucked him out of the snow.

"Don't you dare mention this...to anyone…" Maru glared up at the crane, which earned him a roll of the eyes. The big machine then swung the mechanic onto her back and headed down road.

"Maru, good for you to join us." Blade tried to speak in a relaxed tone, but the mechanic could easily pick out the tension bleeding into his voice.

"How bad is it?"

"Bad." One of the heavy snow plow dump trucks commented has he moved backed out of the way showing the twisted blade and chassis of a small dozer, tucked against the sides of the crew's massive snowmelter.

"Chrysler." Maru swore as he got closer and saw the tell-tell signs of ruptured hydraulics and torn valves. It even looked like the force of the avalanche had tried to tear the kid's blade clean off. "You weren't kidding when you said this kid is a mess."

"Can you help him?" The crane who had brought him here asked timidly.

"I am going to try." Maru sighed as he unclipped his tool pack and started to work.

* * *

"Do you think that we can move the kid?" Maru glanced up to the dump truck who had asked him the question, then up to the darkening sky. How had he not noticed that another storm was bearing down on them? The dump truck spoke again bring Maru back to the current problem. "Do you think we can move him?"

"I don't think we have much of a choice. Even with the heat coming off of snowmelter, he will freeze to death he stays out here through another storm this condition." Maru sighed, trying to patch the last of the leaks and prep the little dozer for an emergency transport. "The question is do we have a plan to get him out? The last update I was given the roads to both the lodge and the road crew base were blocked." Not to mention the air attack base, Maru added to himself. There was no way that a vehicle was going to get up that icy road right now.

"We have a plan." The truck nodded towards the kid. "You get him ready to fly and we will worry about the transport half of things?

"You have managed to call in a Skycrane or something?" Maru asked hopefully, not taking his eyes off of the delicate wiring he was trying to temporarily patch with tape. While the dozer was will outside Blade's ability to carry, he would easily be within a Skycrane's load capacity and it would mean that the kid could be delivered to Maru's hanger where the mechanic could finish up all the repairs in relative comfort.

"The closest Skycrane we could call in wouldn't make it before the next storm hits. But luckily Anchor Lake has at least ten feet of ice on it, and we cleared off a temporary runway which Cabbie is willing to try to land on."

Cabbie you are an idiot, the mechanic groaned internally. Driving on an icy lake was dangerous for a truck, but it was even riskier using for a cargo plane to land on the relatively thin skin of frozen water that covered the local water feature at this time of year. That said Maru couldn't say he was particularly surprised. Cabbie was an aircraft that was always pushing the limits of what was possible. It was a bad habit that was going to eventually get the C-119 killed, but so far the old plane combination of skill, luck, and grit had saved countless lives. And at this moment, Cabbie's daredevil, ice runway pick up was probably going to be the kid's only chance to survive.

"What is Cabbie's ETA?" The mechanic asked knowing that Cabbie probably already had the whole rescue planed out. That plane always had everything planned out.

"He would like to make the pickup in 20 minutes."

"Well, then, we better get going." Maru sighed and gathered up his tools for transport. "If you will load us on the back of one of the dump trucks or flat beds I will continue to patch on the way."

* * *

There were some sights that sat uncomfortable at the pit of Maru's tank no matter how many times he saw them. Watching the Piston Peak Air Attack's cargo plane coming in for a final approach onto a runway with questionable stability was one of those sights.

"Don't punch through the ice…don't punch through the ice…don't punch through the ice…" Maru muttered to himself as he watched Cabbie make his first trial approach. The mechanic knew that it was simply going to be a touch and go. That if Cabbie punched through, he would probably have enough power to get himself out of a fatal situation, but there was also very real risk that the C-119's luck would choose to run out at this moment. Maru was not alone in his worry. Several of the road crew's vehicles were sitting with him on the end of the frozen lake. Their eyes looking skyward, each holding their breath in the hope that everything would go smoothly, in short the tension among the group was so thick you could probably pave a street with it.

The approach was picture perfect. Every control service on the old plane's body was precisely where they needed to me to allow his tires to gently kiss the ice. The C-119's engines wound down to a whine, and then everyone could hear deep thud as Cabbie made contact with the impromptu runway. He rolled across the ice for an impossibly long moment, but while the ice strained under his bulk it didn't crack or give way. That said, Cabbie was still moving too fast to successfully stop on this go around. So everyone on shore had to wince as engines screamed as he fully throttled up, and Cabbie shakily clawed his way back into the safety of the sky.

Cabbie was ready for his second approach in less than five minutes and it was as exact as the first one. This time though when C-119 landed every single one of his flaps were up and grinding sound of his breaks could be heard rumbling through the ice. He came to a complete stop, then slowly rolled backwards down the runway in order to give himself enough room to take off because there hadn't been enough time to add turn round space at either end of the makeshift runway.

While the plane was busily getting position, the road crew was also jumping into action. The twin cranes worked together to move the damaged dozer on a makeshift sled. Once Maru insured that his patient was securely clipped in place, the mechanic clipped the contraption to the back of one of the park service two-ton pickup trucks. The three vehicles headed out onto the ice; pickup straining under the weight of his cargo, Maru struggling to keep up driving on the uneven surface, and the kid who was mercifully still out cold.

Getting the dozer into Cabbie's cargo bay proved to be the most complicated part of the procedure, but between pull of the plane's winch system and pickup pushing the were able get to the kid safely inside. Maru rolled inside as soon as the truck was clear and started to lock the kid down. Outside he could here has Cabbie began to throttle up his engines and mutter his way through emergency take off checklists. Behind him he heard the truck behind them prepare to leave.

"Good luck and blue skies." The pickup shouted over the din of spinning propeller blades as he made a sharp u-turn and sped back to the safety of the shore. Cabbie closed his beaver tail door just as the first snowflakes of the coming storm began to fall.

* * *

Cabbie had always been a smooth ride for a cargo plane, and he was always particularly delicate with the controls when he was transporting someone who was injured. The fact that he was bucking as bad as he was probably meant that the storm outside was more intense than expected. Maru tried to put that fact out of his mind and ignore the sloshing in his tank as he focused his full attention on his patient.

Under the harsh lighting of Cabbie's hull, the dozer looked quite the mess. His green and white paint was marred by scratches and dents. The damage to his blade spoke to the shear amount of force that he had experience being trapped the avalanche. It was clear that a lesser vehicle would have been crushed, but the little earth mover had clearly been built of tougher stuff. The kid was still leaking, but it was now slow enough that Maru could keep a head of it as long as he applied regularly fluids. Now that they were heading to an actual medical facility the mechanic was pretty sure that the kid would be completely rebuilt in the next two to three weeks.

" _Maru, are you locked down back there?"_ Cabbie's voice crackled on his internal radio system, interrupting Maru as he was digging through his tool kit.

"No, I am…" The mechanic tried to explain that he was prepping to administer another anesthetic but the airplane didn't give him a chance.

" _Get yourself locked down now we are about to…"_  Cabbie didn't get a chance to finish his statement when they hit by a strong down draft that slammed Maru against the bulkhead.

* * *

Consciousness didn't come softly to Maru. Instead it crashed down with painful vengeance. It made the mechanic want to squeeze his eyes shut against the dim red light of the small space he was trapped in and go back to sleep, but sleep would proved elusive as long as that loud voice was booming all around him.

" _Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Medevac Avalanche Fife One, requesting clearance and vectoring into an instrument approach into Executive, Mather, or Sacramento International Airport. I am approaching the city from the Southeast in route from Piston Peaks National Park and currently squawking 7700. Requesting two ambulance crews upon landing. I say again. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. This is Medevac Avalanche Fife One, requesting clearance and vectoring into an instrument approach into Executive, Mather, or Sacramento International Airport."_

"Cabbie what is going on?" The tug questioned groggily.

" _Maru?"_  The big cargo plane replied, the relief palpable in his voice. Unfortunately the volume was way too high for the mechanics aching head handle.

"Can you turn down the volume?" Maru groaned squeezing his eyes shut.

" _Maru I need you to strap yourself down now."_  Cabbie pushed apparently ignoring the earlier comment about the lack of volume control.

"Cabbie…" The tug started to whine but was cut off.

" _Stop arguing, start acting."_  The aircraft spoke using his tight, we are about to fly through slag voice.  _"Once you are fully clipped in I will be happy to answer any question that you might have."_

"Alright, fine." Maru was frustrated, angry, and in pain and he wasn't scared to show it. "I am clipped in! Happy now?"

" _That is much better."_  Cabbie tone seemed to relax a bit even if his flying remained choppy. " _Okay, Maru what do you remember?"_

"Remember?" Maru really what happened in the past, he wanted to know what was going on right now.

" _Do you have a headache?"_

"Heck yeah." That went without saying.

" _On a scale of 1 to 10 how would you rank your pain?"_

Oh no, Maru knew these questions and they were not going along that line of questioning. "Cabbie I don't think we really have time to deal with this. What in the world is going on and why is it so dark back here?"

"YOU BROKE TWO OF THE CABIN LIGHTS WHEN YOU WERE BOUNCING AROUND." A slurred, unfamiliar voice said behind him and Maru couldn't help but wince in pain from the volume.

" _And then I got a chuck of half melted ice got stuck in the socket. It caused things to short out pretty good back there so I shut down the system."_

All that information was great, but it really didn't tell Maru why he had been bouncing around Cabbie's hull in the first place. "What is going on?!"

"We are in the middle of evacuating flight when we hit a bad, section of turbulent and you apparently didn't get strapped down in time." The plane paused as though he didn't want to mention what happened next. "You were out for a good ten minutes and I was getting worried that some severe damage had been done. Even so, we really need to have you checked out by an exert to determine just how bad your concussion is."

"So we are currently stuck in the storm?" So that was why the floor kept rocking under him. Maru had half thought it was due to the fact he had taken a tumble. Slag, why did he keep getting himself into these types of messes. Really Maru should quit the National Park system and start working for a nice safe garbage scow.

"I THINK THE PLANE IS WORKING ON THAT." The voice, no his patient, interjected timidly.

"Cabbie really wanted to be out of the storm, we would already be out of it." Maru blurted out not really sure if what he just said made sense.

" _Okay."_  Cabbie voice was thick with resignation.  _"I need you two work on keeping each other awake back there."_

"WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO BE DOING?" The pained voice asked.

" _I am going to get our sorry afts_ _ **safely**_ _back on the ground."_

* * *

Somewhere along the line, time in Cabbie's cargo hold had lost all meaning. Under normal situations the flight from Piston Peaks to Sacramento should have taken the aircraft less than 40 minutes to complete. It was a flight that Cabbie usually completed two or three times a month picking up supplies that would be difficult to transport into the park by ground and occasionally Maru would tag along in order to shop for spare parts, to get a tool repaired, or just escape from the base for an afternoon.

From where the mechanic currently sat it seemed like a whole lot more than 40 minutes had passed, and he was starting to get a bit worried about the excessive amounts of fluids that seemed to be pooling on the floor. In the darkness of the dimly lit space Maru couldn't tell how much of it was vital fluids and how much of it was simply melted snow. He also couldn't tell how much had come from his patient verses how much he was to blame for.

The mechanic's only comfort in the whole situation was the fact that the damaged dozer seemed be tracking relatively well. Maru managed to coax a few childhood stories out of him. Apparently the kid had grown up in a mining family which kind of explained his volume issues. Said volume issues also helped explain how he had gotten into the mess in the first place, with a voice like that it was a small wonder that he hadn't knocked an avalanche loose earlier in the season.

Still even with the conversation, Maru was finding it harder and harder to focus. It was also clear that the kid was also struggling to concentrate on what was being said. There were longer and longer pauses between answers and his words were badly slurred. But at least the kid could string more than two words together at a time. That was something Maru was starting to really struggle with.

" _Everyone still locked down back there?"_ Cabbie interupted one of the long pauses that had grown in the Kid's and Maru's poor attempt at conversation.

"YES, SIR!" The kid thundered, Maru just gave a half hearted groan.

" _I will take that as two affirmatives."_ Cabbie spoke in his clipped, things are hitting the fan voice.  _"Just to give you all a heads up, things are probably going to get a bit bumpy. Right now all the airports are currently closed because of the storm, but Mather's has been trying to keep a runway clear for us. I am preparing to enter final approach right now, but I wanted let you both know what was going on in case things got hairy."_

"WE WILL SIT TIGHT."

" _Good. Talk to you again when we are on the ground."_

* * *

Maru really didn't start to comprehend the complexity of the landing maneuver that Cabbie had to pull off until the aircraft had successfully made it on the ground. When the aircraft finally popped his cargo bay door open, showing whiteout conditions beyond it kind of took the mechanic's breath away and suddenly made him very glad that Cabbie didn't have passenger windows.

Moments later flashing lights appeared out of the white. Most of the various vehilicles organized themselves around the open beavertail door, but a large yellow vehicle streaked by. By the snippets of conversation, scratch that,  _interrogation_  that wind was carrying aft ward Maru assumed that the vehicle was a TMST Officer. While it wasn't too surprising that the TMST would make it their business to investigate this type of situation, normally they would at least give the plane who had made an emergency landing an opportunity to calm down a little. The only explanation that Maru could come up with was that the officer was new. Luckily, Cabbie was a bit of an old hat at this. He normally had to make two to three emergency landings per year…though he usually didn't have to do two in the same day.

"When it became clear that I wasn't going to be able to get into Fresno International, I had one critical patient and one in unknown condition I knew that the next closes Level 1 trauma center was here." Cabbie's voice was steady and matter of fact; a plane that was giving TMST exactly what he needed to fill out the forms and sentence more. "I also knew that with three major airports and a half dozen runways there it was my best bet to get back on the ground even if I had to make a belly landing on the snow…"

"Sir." A EMS tug fully got his attention by flashing a bright light into his eyes, which slagging really hurt. He tried to turn away from the light but couldn't because he was still strapped down. "Sir, can you tell me your name?"

"Maru." The mechanic muttered trying to breathe through the shooting pain.

"Well Mr. Maru we are going to take very good care of you." The EMS tug spoke softly as he started to undo the straps and attached a tow chain. Throughout the process Maru knew that there was something that he was missing.

"The kid?" He blurted out as soon as the answer hit him, and he tried to turn and get a good look at his patient.

"The dozer?" The EMS tug glanced over Maru and back into the cavernous dark of Cabbie's hold. The tug's mouth twisted with a look of concern but he kept his voice level and unconcerned. "The other crew will start checking on him as soon as we get you out of the way."

The mechanic realized that his only option was to allow the ambulance crews take charge of the situation, and so he did his best to relax and not add to the bigger problem. The EMS tugs were professionals. They had Maru loaded up in under five minutes and they were moving in less than seven. It was only after the ambulance started moving and the pain medication that the tugs gave him started to kick in that Maru realized that while Cabbie had been rock stead when they had been in the air, he had started shaking like a leaf in a hurricane as soon as his tires had finally come to a complete stop on the tarmac.

* * *

Maru was dozing by the time his ambulance arrived at the hospital, despite the EMT's best efforts. When he was rolled inside the ER he let the words of the medical staff roll over him, like water breaking over the shore. He was safe, he was warm, but most all he wasn't flying through a snowstorm anymore. The mechanic had almost relaxed to the point where he could realistically sleep off some of the pounding headache he was fighting, when the second ambulance arrived.

While the hospital staff had taken Maru's arrival in stride, they where whipped into a flurry by the kid's arrival. There where mechanics of all sorts swarming the little guy calling for different types of fluids and parts they needed. Within minutes that had him mounted up on a cradle and were starting to strip away some of the worst damaged parts. Even when some of the nursing staff had pulled a curtain around the spot where the little dozer sat, Maru had a hard time taking his eyes off of the comings and goings.

"Looks like you are going to be our guest at least over night." A Dodge D-300 in red EMS paint, parked himself directly in Maru's line of sight and started flipping through the tug's chart.

"The Kid?" Maru asked looking towards the curtained of section of the ER and prayed that they had made it to the hospital in time.

"He is going to be our guest for quite a bit longer." Truck sighed, and put the chart away so that he could look Maru straight in the eyes. "That dozer owes his life to you and that plane. He needed a trauma center and despite everything that Mother Nature through against you guys you got him here."

"I know that I was just doing my job, and I am pretty sure that Cabbie would say the same." Maru mumbled.

"That is what I like about you fire folks." The Dodge gave Maru a genuine smile. "You find a way to get the job done, and don't care if you get the credit for doing it. But sometimes you guys need credit where credit is due. I just wanted to let you know that I have nominated you and your plane for the Interagency EMS Recognition Medal."

"Thank you…" Maru started after a long pause, not knowing what else to say.

"You're welcome." The truck gave him a gentle bump with his tire. "Just make sure you don't bring my ER anyone else any time soon."

* * *

The heavy storm shut down Mather Airport for the next two days. Maru spent that time mostly holed up at the UC Davis Medical Center complex where the staff let him crash in the EMT's lounge until it was safe enough to travel. In a way the mechanic didn't mind staying. It meant that he could constantly check up on the little dozer with volume issues any time that he wanted.

The kid was doing a whole lot better. He had been moved out of the ICU midway through the morning of second day. There were still some worries about the long term effects about the lack of oxygen and the concussion on his mental faculties, but until the kid's family got there it was difficult for any of them to determine what had been the little dozer's baseline so they assumed all was well.

When Maru got word the airports were finally starting to open again it was hard to express his relief. Finding Cabbie in the slick mess of the apron was a little more challenging. Given the severity of the storm and the fact he had been the last plane to enter the airport before it closed meant that there had been no room left in the hanger. This meant that Cabbie had joined the huddle of larger planes parked on the apron. With close to two feet thick white coating the tops of the planes it was hard to identify an aircraft's markings, but Maru was pretty sure that there was only one aircraft here with twin tails.

"Let's go home." Maru said patting the big plane on the nose.

Cabbie just harrumphed in reply and started to shake the thick layer of snow from his wings.

* * *

The rest of the winter ended up being fairly uneventful. Cabbie flew a number of early morning avalanche abatement missions and Blade helped locate a half dozen 'lost' tourists. Maru mainly stayed at base doing routine repairs. The lack of excitement almost made the mechanic wish for summer to arrive. The key word there being almost.

In the end, it didn't matter that Maru kind of enjoyed the solitude for the Air Attack Base during winter. Spring arrived, in all its muddy sogginess. The road crew took advantage of the 'juicy' conditions to prep many of the dirt roads for the coming tourist season. Today they had sent up one of the big double blade graders to clean up the washboarding on the Air Attack Base's main road. When the vehicle came up to the base for lunch, Maru couldn't help but ask a question that had been niggling at the back of his mind for a while.

"So what ever did happen to that greenny that got hit by the avalanche this past winter?"

"Gyllenhaal quit the road crew when his contract was up." The grader shrugged and then took a deep swing of oil.

"Sad to hear it." Maru took a sip of coffee to cover a sigh. While it true that the kid has an iron strong will to survive, that didn't necessarily he had the mean that he had the guts to stick with the job, especially after having such a terrifying experience during his first field season. It was probable best for the little dozer to head back to his family business in the mines where he was more comfortable with the dangers. The tug was about to say something to that effect when he glanced up and the look the heavy vehicle was giving him made the mechanic pause.

"Apparently you and Cabbie made quite the impression on him." The grader smirked. "He is going back to school to become a smokejumper so that he can jump out of cargo planes for a living."

Maru couldn't stop the edges of his mouth twitching upward with that piece of news. The little dozer would be on the heavy side for a smokejumper, but well within the limits for one of the C-130 crews. Perhaps he would even have an opportunity to cross paths with the kid again in the future.

* * *

_Four years later…_

It was April again, which meant the Maru was axils deep in mud, paperwork, and potential recruits. The online paperwork did a good job of weeding out the potential fire crew that had no business being there, but when it came to the short list a physical evaluation was kind of required.

"MY NAME IS GYLLENHAAL, BUT EVERYONE CALLS ME AVALANCHE." The kid grinned at Maru, clearly no longer a greenny.

"Well, 'Lanche. Your paperwork here says that you want to be a smokejumper and the fact Cabbie is here" Maru reached up to give the aircraft a pat on the nose which earned him a good natured snort and roll of the eyes, "indicates that he is willing to give you a chance. The question is, are you willing to go through the modifications it is going to take out of a C-119?"

"WOULDN'T BE HERE IF I WASN'T, SIR." The kid actually managed to grin harder, a feat that Maru hadn't thought was even possible. Clearly the dozer was right where he wanted to be and if Cabbie was willing find a way to carry the brute, Maru was going to find a way to let the kid on the team. After all, the little dozer had already proven that not even an Avalanche could stand in is way.

Speaking of that, while Avalanche was still going to technically need Blades stamp of approval to join the Smokejumpers, with Cabbie's, Dynamites, and of course Maru's endorsement that appoint was as good a guaranteed. This, of course meant that the kid was going to need a new radio call sign. After paging through his various books of radio codes the mechanic smiled and jotted the newest number on the operation board. 55... _Snow is on the Way_.

* * *

_**Aviation Note:**  Hurrah! You have made it to the end of the story...so what did you think? Should I try to take on some additional smokejumper backstories in the future? Oh, and now that we are at the end of the story here is a little factoid that you might find useful if you are in Avalanche country. While the movies might have loud noises knocking an avalanche loose. How loud you ask? Well there are only a couple of vehicles that produce a loud enough sound to actually cause one of these dangerous snow slides...and they all belong to the Air Attack team. Blade, Windlifter, and Cabbie could used their the sound of their engines to start an avalanche, but only if they are within 10 feet of an area of snow pack that is ready to go. This means that as much as much as Avalanche might want to claim he is loud enough to trigger and avalanche, our favorite little dozer isn't in fact loud enough to do so._


	4. Where There's A Will There's A Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabbie had always been a cargo plane at heart...that didn't change when started carrying smokejumpers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...this is actually the little piece that inspired me to write Avalanche. It is short but I hope that you will enjoy.

Even though Cabbie had grown up military, he truly was a cargo plane at heart. He thrived on the calculations and getting the loads to safely to their final destinations. His ability to do all of the calculations in his head had quickly earned him the coveted role of a loadmaster when he deployed with the 314th Operations Group back in 1950. When the Air Force needed to figure out how to turn C-119's into impromptu bombers he had been there to figure out how to best load the napalm. When the Chinese blew up a bridge that the Marines needed to get to safety, Cabbie had been selected to be one of eight planes to airdrop a replacement. But in some ways, the challenges that Cabbie took on when he was on active duty paled in comparison to the challenge that now sat before him.

The C-119 eyed dozer in front of him who shifted uncomfortably under the warplanes eye. The kid was young, but he already had three years of fire experience jumping out of C-130's. The problem was the average C-130 had well over four times Cabbie's lift capacity.

"DO I PASS?" The kid, that apparently everyone called Avalanche, ever since his lack of volume control had brought down a mountain of snow on his head the first year he worked for the park's road crew, looked up at Cabbie with big green, hopeful eyes. Looking down at how hopeful the kid was Cabbie didn't have the heart to tell him that he was just too heavy for the job.

"Well, when there's a will, there's a way." Cabbie stated the mantra of the C119 as though it was a talisman and then turned his attention to the problem at hand. There had to be a solution. "Let's figure out how you are going to fit."

After about an hour of a half, Cabbie paged Maru to bring him into the plane. Both plane and passenger were going to have undergo some modifications. Cabbie would lose some more of his war armor, Avalanche would be sporting a smaller, lighter blade, but they would make weight. And every time Avalanche gave a bright lopsided grin when the fire was successfully stomped out, Cabbie knew he had made the right decision.

When Pinecone joined them a few years later, Cabbie didn't even hesitate to say yes.

* * *

_**Aerospace Note:** If you are not up to speed on C-119s, in my opinion, they are officially one of the coolest planes out there. So far Flying Boxcars have modified for cargo transport, medical evac, passenger airliner, fire tanker, highbird, paratrooper operations, equipment airdrops, recon, satellite recovery, bomber, gunship, Antarctic mapping, and movie set. There were even C-119s that were modified to have jet engines or detachable cargo bays (think Windlifter). While the hey day of the C119 has gone, four of these majestic planes still flying, it is very possible that a few more uses for these aircraft will be found in the future._


	5. Moving On?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dynamite is given a once in a lifetime opportunity...the question is, should she take it?

It was a good thing that it was a quiet day, because Dynamite didn't know if she had the energy to fight a fire at the moment. Not after she had read and re-read the letter in front of her. It wasn't that the contents of the letter were bad per say…just overwhelming. The ATV couldn't help but feel that this particular decision was above her pay grade, but at the same time she knew that she was the only vehicle able to make it.

She didn't know exactly how long she had stared at the letter. Avalanche had gotten the rest of the smokejumpers to work on cleaning up a trail as soon as he realized that Dynamite needed some space, which meant that the base was eerily quiet. Nosing her way out of the smokejumper hanger, Dynamite glanced around. Cabbie was the easiest to spot. The big plane was dozing on edge of the tarmac, dark wings soaking up the heat of the late summer sun. If Dynamite squinted, she could spot the shadow of Patch rummaging around in the tower. She technically couldn't see Blade, but his hanger door was open to catch a breeze which probably meant that the helicopter was in there filing paperwork.

Chewing on her lip Dynamite considered her options, and then headed to the open hanger. The ATV was preparing to give the door a knock, when Blade spoke up from within. "Enter."

Dynamite rolled in, as though her tires had a will of their own. She was met by the Air Attacks Chief's thousand mile stare. Immediately her mouth went dry and the ATV struggled to figure out what in the world she was suppose to stay. After a few long rotor beats, she decided that the direct approach would be best. "Sir, the Forest Service asked if I would join the instructor pool…"

"I know."

"What?" The smokejumper couldn't help but squawk.

"I know," Blade gave her a long, unreadable look, "because I nominated you for the opening."

"You did what?" Dynamite couldn't keep the shock and hurt out of her voice. "Don't you want me here?"

"Of course I want you here. You are an amazing team leader, but as a smokejumper you know more than most that you have an expiration date. Firefighting instructors have no such limitations, but an opportunity to become a teacher only comes to the very best and only once or twice in their career."

Everything Blade was saying was completely true. That, unfortunately, didn't put a damper on Dynamite's self-doubt, but like any good team leader she turned her attention on aspects of the problem she could affect. "What about the team?"

"I think that you would agree that the team is already in very good hands." Blade said as he looked out the window at the smokejumpers as they rolled out of the woods and onto the tarmac. Dynamite followed the helicopter's gaze and realized that the fire boss wasn't looking at the team, but dozer who was ushering the motley crew towards the power washer.

"Why didn't you have Avalanche become the leader?" Dynamite breathed as she watched, her team functioning perfectly well without her. "We got here about the same time so it wasn't a question of seniority…was it?"

Blade's gaze softened a bit at Dynamite question. The Air Attack boss gave a sad little smile. "He wasn't ready yet, and you were prepared to take that step."

"And you think that he is ready now?" The little ATV asked, but even as she spoke she realized that she already knew the answer. Whenever something went wrong and she was incapacitated, it was Avalanche who stepped into the role of leader getting their team to safety. Whenever Dynamite had to split the team so that they could battle two fires at once, Avalanche always lead the other team. She didn't know when it had happened, but somewhere along the line the dozer with a volume issue had become her unspoken second in command.

Then there was the fact that no one could get more out of Cabbie than Avalanche. She had initially chalked that up to the length of time the two had flown together, but now she realized that it was something more…something deeper. Avalanche was the only one of the smokejumpers who had really bothered to get to know the C-119. While Drip and Blackout had pestered the plane for war stories, Avalanche had been the one who looked up order of battle charts and mission reports so that Cabbie wouldn't have to retell painful stories.

While Dynamite had always been an upfront type of leader, without anyone noticing Avalanche had become the leader that pushed everyone from behind. As she watched the dozer pulled Drip aside and checked a wicked looking scratch. Yes, Dynamite thought, Avalanche could not only step into the role of leader but push the smoke jumpers to grow in ways that the ATV couldn't dream of.

"There are protocols of course for the transition." Blade's voice interrupted Dynamites thoughts. She glanced up and couldn't help but chuckle at the look of bemusement on the Air Bosses face. "The job will be put posted on the US Gov site and I am sure that that we will get quite a few applicants for the position now that Piston Peaks is considered to be a sweet billet, but we have always given priority to people who have put in their time with us and I don't see why it make sense to change that policy now that the park has gotten a reputation in the fire fighting business."

"Do you think that Avalanche would take it?" Dynamite chewed her lip. Blade just raised an eyebrow. "I mean do you think that dozer would want to be the captain of the smokejumpers."

"The Death Valley National Park crew has been doing very well with a dozer as their fire captain."

Dynamite stuck her tongue out at the helicopter and then followed it up with a mock glare. "You know what I mean."

"Just because he is the last one to jump instead of the first one will not make him any less of a leader. It would only make him a different type of leader." Blade settled lower on his tires as he spoke. "And when he gets on the ground, even you have to admit that there is no one on the team who is more willing to tow the line."

"If…if I get this job…" Dynamite chewed her lip for a moment, then realized that there was nothing for here to fear. Her decision had been made without her even realizing it and she looked Blade square in the face. "I am not going to give the Piston Peak Air Attack Team any free passes. When it is my turn to inspect the base, I will be holding you guys to the highest possible standard."

"I expect nothing less." Blades rumble soothed away the last of her indecision.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." The Chief smiled, than after a few rotor beats nodded towards the racket that was starting to build on the tarmac. "Now go and take care of your team."

At that, Dynamite grinned. She knew now that at the end of the fire season she would be leaving her position at Piston Peak. But in the meantime, it was nice to know that no one was pushing her out. And by the sounds that were coming from Maru's hanger it seemed like someone needed to go whip her boys back into shape. Digging her tires into the tarmac Dynamite speed off to get the job done.

* * *

_**Aviation Note:**  There are not many jobs in the United States that have a mandatory retirement age, but wildland firefighting is one of them. If you are going to work the lines as either a hotshot or a Smokejumper you are required by law to retire at the age of 55, with the only exceptions for fire instructors who can retire whenever they want after they have put in 20 years in the fire service. Based on the massive amounts of reading that I have been doing on the subject that mandatory retirement age seems to effect smokejumpers a lot more than the hotshots because smokejumpers are an average of a decade older then their purely ground counterparts. Also, just for your personal information, the rule for wildland firefighting does not apply to pilots who fly firefighting aircraft, which is why Cabbie gets away with hanging around as long as he does. As long as the pilot can prove that they are still sharp and can pass all their medical tests they are allowed to stay on the job._


	6. Final Will and Testament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Dusty Crophopper is officially a wildland firefighter, it is time for Maru and him to have 'the talk.'

* * *

Dusty Crophopper had passed his certification tests and had just been just given his new coat of paint in his brand new livery. This meant that it was now time for Maru to sit down and have the forklifts least favorite conversation. But, to be honest, the mechanic realized he probably should have had the conversation ages ago.

"Dusty, do you have a moment?" Maru called their newest member into the main hanger when the Air Attack team had a rare moment of calm.

"Yes…" Dusty stuffed a yawn and rolled over. "What do you need Maru?"

"We need to talk wills, testaments, and directives." The mechanic admitted quietly as he shut the hanger door. This type of conversation was private and thus not something that all of the Smokejumpers and Dipper needed to overhear.

"What in the world do we need to do that for?" Dusty spun around looking a bit hurt and trapped.

"Ford, Dusty." Maru sighed heavily. "You are a world famous racer, and you would think that the past few weeks would have taught you something about your mortality."

"Well, I am still pretty young. Just look at Skipper. He is still doing pretty well and he is over 50 years my senior."

"And he is a plane who didn't fly for decades after being pulled out of the sea." Maru countered, unimpressed with the argument.

"Skipper is…" Dusty revved up ready for a fight.

"Dusty." Maru's voice was quiet, but as unyielding as a brick wall. "I ain't going having this argument. We both know that the more a plane flies the more risks for catastrophic failure then a grounded one and you have proven that you are perfectly willing to fly into harm's way even if you should be keepin' your wheels on the tarmac."

"So, you are telling me that you had the same  _discussion_  with Dipper? With Cabbie?" The acid in former cropduster's voice was palpable. "And how about with Blade? Or am I just being put on the spot because you just had to rebuild my engine and you don't want to go through the bother again if you don't have to."

"Yes and no."

"Yes and no, what?"Dusty spat.

"Yes, I have had the conversation with everyone on base other than you and it was a two-way street, in fact." Maru shrugged. "The Chief sat down and make sure that he knew what my wishes were if the worst happened to me two weeks after I became head mechanic. And no, the reason I am having this conversation with you has nothing to do with your engine rebuild. It has more to do with the paint job you just got. You are now  _officially_  part of the team and as a member of the team, we need to know what to do with you if you royally mung yourself up again. For example, when Cabbie finally hits a solid core cloud he would prefer to receive palliative care but not a rebuild…"

"Cabbie wants to just die!" Dusty practically shrieked and Maru instantly regretted his choice of example.

"Cabbie's not suicidal, he is quite the opposite. He just knows that he is reaching the end of his operational life and when faced with the choice of a relatively quick death in a blaze of glory in the place he has called home for most of his post-military life, or being sent away to slowly fall apart forever trapped on the ground at Air Force boneyard in Arizona, he would prefer to stay here."

"That seems so…" The small plane paused searching for the right word.

"Cruel?" Maru gave a mirthless laugh remembering how shocked and worried he had been when he had first read the cargo plane's emergency repair directives. Then how much the mechanic's tune had change after he had done a little research about what Flying Boxcar's retirement looked like. "It is anything but. Cabbie has watched what has happened too many of his fellow C-119s when they could no longer take to the skies and got sent to the boneyards. It isn't pretty. Those of the model who can still fly call them ground ghosts and the lot of them are dark and miserable creatures."

"But it is Cabbie…"

"And Cabbie wants to live and die as Cabbie instead of becoming a shell of himself." Maru shrugged. "It is not like we are going to be cruel about it when the time comes, and yes with him it is a when not an if. Piston Peak National Park is probably the last home he will ever have and when the day comes when he has managed to scatter himself across the cliffs. We will be there to make sure that his pain is managed and he isn't alone when he takes his last breaths. Blade and I have even made special arrangements, though Cabbie has no clue that we managed it, to have his metal recycled and returned to the park. He will make a very handsome overlook and fire tower someday."

"Are all the other wills like…you know…" Dusty voice trailed off as he gulped nervously.

"Oh, goodness sakes no." Maru gave a deep chuckle. "They vary from person to person depending on where they are in their life. And sometimes we alter them based on life experience. Dipper and most of the Smokejumper kids are 'continue to repair until it is clear that there is no hope, then retrieve and send home for last rights.' Dynamite wants to go through at least three transmissions before she kicks the bucket. Blade has a 'try to get me back no matter what' clause, though I think it might be time to reevaluate that one now that I am not as worried about him taking a nose dive off a building. Which brings me to you and what your end of life choices are?"

Based on where their earlier conversation had meandered, Maru expected that Dusty would behave like Dipper, who had instantly blurt out that she wanted to fight until there was no more fight left in either her or the mechanic. But to the cropduster's credit, he didn't. Dusty instead paused, a whole host of emotions racing across his face.

"Can I have some time?" Dusty asked, shifting his weight on his pontoons and not making eye contact. "I mean to think about it, maybe call home?"

"Of course, take the time that you need."

* * *

_**Aerospace Note:**  Aircraft Boneyard are places where planes and helicopters are parked after retirement. These planes are often slowly picked apart, removing all their useful parts, and then they are scrapped for the metal. The Air Force currently owns and the largest of these boneyards. It is just over 2,600 acres and is the final home for nearly 4,400. That particular boneyard is located in Arizona, but there are many other scattered across the Southwest US because the desert is an ideal place to store a downed aircraft long term. While it seems like in the Cars' World some aircraft who have been accepted as members of communities even if they can't fly, the bigger aircraft would have to have someplace to retire that could actually accommodate their size when they were grounded._


	7. Reboot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blade really should have suspected something was wrong...but he didn't, and know it is too late to escape.

* * *

Blade should have suspected something was wrong when Dynamite had announced that she wanted to do a snap inspection of their jumpers in the middle of July. Ever since the Forest Service had convinced her to become a jumper instructor she had always been kind to her former base and made sure to schedule her inspections when they wouldn't negatively affect base operations. So, when she suddenly changed her MMO to inspect them smack-dab in the middle of the fire season the helicopter should have started to put the pieces together.

If that wasn't red flag enough there seemed to be an awful lot of the base's previous smokejumpers visiting the park. The ones who had moved on to other wildfire fighting teams were of course missing, but jumpers who had aged out or simply changed industries were all there. This lead to a steady stream of visitors on base, as well as Cabbie spending most evenings down at the lodge to catch up with his kids. Still, it was not until he arrived back to base after a long day working with Pulaski figuring out where to put in some additional fire roads did Blade realize what his former,  _and current_  employees were up to.

That evening when he found a party already in full swing on the airstrip apron and a large sheet hung on the side of the main hanger acting as a large, outdoor screen. Even though it was not dark enough to see the image being projected on the screen clearly, Blade could make word CHoPs picked out in bold font. The helicopter couldn't help by stifle a sigh. The Chief had managed to avoid attending the premiere and he wasn't particularly interested in seeing the movie now, but it seemed that the Piston Peak Air Attack Team had a completely different plan.

Blade wanted nothing more that to avoid the party and hid in his hanger, but his tanks were also uncomfortably empty. After a few rotor beats, he decided his best option was probably trying to sneak into the main hanger, snag some fuel from the kitchen, and then lock himself in his hanger. He managed to slip through the half-open hanger doors when he spotting movement in the base kitchen. Once he recognized who was there, Blade changed his initial plan and went to confront one of the vehicles who had probably organized the whole fiasco.

"You knew that this was going to happen." Blade glared down at Maru who was busily making vats of popcorn.

"Of course." Maru said with a shrug and a grin. "The kids have been planning it for months."

"Traitor." Blade spat with mock venom, but he still allowed himself to be herded into a place of honor between Cabbie and Windlifter.

As soon as the movie started to play Blade quickly figured how the jumpers had managed to get a copy of the movie while it was still in theaters. They were currently watching a bootleg. A bad one that, with the occasional theater noises and comments in what Blade assumed was Russian. Cabbie seemed to be the only vehicle that seemed to be following 'the Russian', which just seem to raise more questions than it answered.

The fact that everyone was watching a shotty version of the CHoPs movie didn't seem to damper the jumpers mood in the slightest though. The kids happily played their favorite drinking game and Drip managed to initiate a popcorn fight in the middle of one of the uncomfortably long sex scenes. By the end the jumpers had managed to make a massive mess of the main hanger, but had managed to remain riveted on the movie.

"Well that stunk." Cabbie broke the silence as the credits, started to roll across the screen. With the ice broken the various ground pounders added their two cents about everything the movie had gotten wrong from casting to plot. The general consensus was that this new version of CHoPs was little more than an impostor.

"PUT IN SUPER CHOPPER!" Avalanche called out to a murmur of approval. By the time the opening credits were rolling, all two dozen ground pounders were happily humming along with the theme song. When that 'Super Chopper' ended, they, of course, had to watch 'The Return of the Super Chopper.' One episode, lead to another episode that they just had to re-watch. Only Blade and Cabbie seem to notice that to one on base got sleep that night.

* * *

_**Aerospace Note** \- So, it turns out watching bootlegged movies is kind of a thing when you are doing fieldwork. I have had the honor of watching a couple of bad Russian bootlegs when I was doing fieldwork in the middle of nowhere. I still have no clue where people got them, after all, we didn't have a solid internet connection and it took mail several weeks to travel out for us, but we still managed to be able to watch Star Trek and other movies while they still in theaters in civilization. After chatting with other field scientists, wildfirefighters, and soldiers, I found out that while bootlegs are illegal but they still find their way to remote bases all of the time._


	8. Concussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinecone didn't remember being hit by the widowmaker, but she was pretty sure that she was going to get her team killed.

* * *

Pinecone didn't remember the moment that she got hit by the Widowmaker. At the moment it was difficult to remember anything. She was trapped in the moment. Her vision was blurred, and her other senses were completely overwhelmed by waves of jagged pain. The only thing that helped Pinecone stay grounded as consciousness crashed down around her was a familiar blade solidly planted at her bumper in a fireman's carry.

"PINECONE I NEED YOU TO LET GO OF YOUR BREAKS." Avalanche's words broke through the fog and made the telehandler realize that she had been clenching her breaks. She let go, and the two vehicles lurched up the mountain as Avalanche no longer met resistance. The sudden movement made Pinecone feel like she wanted to puke.

"SORRY ABOUT THAT, BUT DON'T WORRY WE ARE ALMOST TO THE ROAD. IT WILL BE A SMOOTH JOURNEY ONCE WE GET TO THE ROAD…" Avalanche muttered like a mantra as he forced his way up the uneven slope. Pinecone knew that it would be a difficult journey for him under the best circumstances. The fact that he was shoving several tons up the mountain was probably pushing the dozer to his limits. But he didn't give up. Avalanche kept his blade squared on her bumper and continued to carry her out of harm's way.

As Avalanche's muttering petered out and Pinecone could start processing other sounds. She could hear the thrum of airplane engines above her and the crackle of the flames in the valley below. Pinecone could also hear distant voices, and after a moment of listening, she realized that it was the chatter on Avalanche's radio…apparently her personal radio had been lost, or damaged, or something along the way. If felt weird to be cut off from the team's communication channel. Almost like a part of her had been sheared away.

The angle under Pinecone's tires changed, and a moment later it became a lot easier to roll. It took a moment for her brain to process why. She was no longer being pushed up the rugged mountain slope. Avalanche had pushed her up onto a road way. There was a whoop of a siren and Pinecone's vision turned yellow. She had to blink several times before her eyes focused enough to realize the wall of color was Pulaski.

The fire engine wasted no time and started a rapid-fire exchange with Avalanche. Pinecone tried to follow what they were saying but they were talking to fast, and the noise was making her headache worse. All she wanted to do at that moment was to park and sleep.

"Stay with me." A rap on her blade caused her eyes to snap back open. Rake, Pulaski's partner, was giving her a concerned stare. Pinecone's eyes nearly drifted closed again, but another sharp rap forced her to focus on Rake again. "Listen, I know that you are tired but I need you to stay awake until we can get you to a mechanic, can you do that for me."

Pinecone tried to speak, but all she managed to get out was a muffled groan. Luckily, Rake seemed to take it as an affirmative and the little tug started to connect tow chains between Pinecone and Pulaski.

"It is going to be a bit touch and go." Rake spoke as he worked. "Avalanche currently has the advantage on us. He is able to take a direct, off-road route back to the smokejumper team. Unfortunately, we are on a dead end road, and it is going to be racing the flames to try to get out."

At Rake's words, Pinecone started to feel sick…well more sick, as she realized the danger that she had put Pulaski and Rake in. Unlike the smokejumpers, these two firefighters were practically road bound and should have evacuated to a location before things had gotten this bad. They had stayed in harm's way to evacuate her.

Pulaski started to move before Pinecone could piece together a sentence to express her combination of guilt and gratitude. Glancing around, she saw that Rake had secured himself to his platform on the fire engine's bumper and was holding on for dear life. All Pinecone could do was close her eyes the chain around her front axil pulled uncomfortable taunt and pray that it didn't come loose.

The smell of smoke was getting stronger, and it was getting harder and harder to see. Then the sparks arrive, and Pinecone knew that they had been too late. The fire had over taken them…they were trapped. It was difficult not to feel a level of despair. The vehicles didn't have a place to evacuate to, and Pinecone had no clue where her fire shelter might have disappeared to.

There was a thunk, and she felt Pulaski's back bumper connect with her front one. She opened her eyes and saw the red of sparks surrounding them. In front of her, she could hear the rig practically yelling over the radio. Then Pulaski revived his engines and Pinecone was yanked forward. Even though the rig's body was blocking most of her view, she could see that he was gunning his way down the mountain road while trees burned like roman candles on both sides of it. There were repeated thuds as Pulaski use his speed and momentum to force fallen trunks out of the way or simply crush smoldering branches.

Then, half the world became cool, and Pulaski stopped. On one side of the road, an overhanging rock cliff refused to give the fire purchase. Rake undid the chains around Pinecone's axil and managed to shove her closer to the cliff. Pulaski quickly placed himself between the two smaller vehicles and approaching flames, just as the thunder of engines approached, and a cascade of red fell from the skies…

* * *

"You still in there?"

There was a gentle rapping on Pinecone's side, and she slided her eyes opened to a familiar hanger and an exhausted pair of eyes. Confused Pinecone tried to open her mouth and ask one of the streams of questions that were bubbling up in her fuzzy brain.

Maru interrupted her before she could even get a squeak out. "Before you ask too many questions take a moment and read the chalkboard."

So she read, and the words on the board answered her cascade of questions…and replaced them with a new one. "Why is there a chalkboard?"

"Because for a while you were asking the same questions over and over again, and Maru had a hard time trying to keep up with the speed that you were forgetting his response." The hanger darkened as Cabbie's wings blocked the light from the setting sun. "Speaking of Maru, I do believe that it is time for him to get some sleep."

The mechanic's sigh spoke volumes, it was almost as if he had had this argument with Cabbie many times and had eventually learned that he could never win. "Well you know the protocol." He spoke to Cabbie before turning to his patent. "Pinecone, do feel up to moving on your own? If not I can call Avalanche over to help."

At Maru's words, a flash of memory welled up…a memory of heat, and pain, and a firm blade on her bumper putting all of his strength into pushing her to safety. "I…" She tried to start a reply only for her vision to be filled with tears.

"Pinecone, what is wrong?" Maru was voice was close; his tine on her side was a grounding force. "What is hurting?"

It took her a few moments to finally choke down the tears and even her breath. "I…I was remembering…it was so frightening and I was so sure that I was going to get everyone killed…I…"

"Made it through." Cabbie's voice reached her, a life ring thrown to a drowning vehicle. "And that is what matters."

Maru was breathing heavily beside her, and she realized just how much she must have frightened her teammates. She didn't want to ask any more of them, so she unlocked her breaks and tried to roll forward. There was a little tightness, but nowhere the amount of pain that Pinecone would have expected. Maru truly was a miracle worker…

The next couple of days Pinecone would be under the fog of her concussion and it would be another two weeks before Maru would let her head out into the field again. But none of that mattered at the moment. Right now she was safe, her teammates were safe, and under the shelter of Cabbie's protective wing, she slept.

* * *

_**Aviation Note:** Widowmakers are a detached branch or tree top that falls when a firefighter or forester is taking down a tree. Widowmakers are responsible for about 11% of chainsaw related accidents and after heart attacks they are the leading cause of death of wildland firefighters. While Pinecone was lucky this time, given how common this hazard is I doubt it will be the last time that smokejumpers will face down a widowmaker. _

 


	9. Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dusty had mastered falling asleep in strange hangers, but he still liked to take his time settling into a place when he woke up. In celebration National Park Week.

* * *

Dusty took a moment to blink the sleep from his eyes and settle into the moment. Unlike most small planes he had grown used to sleeping in strange hangers or even out in the open, it was practically a requirement to be a successful racer, but that didn't mean that the crop duster didn't crave routine. He allowed his surroundings to gradually come into focus. The warn walls that were in need of a new coat of paint, the shelves of rarely used equipment and parts…each piece of his surroundings clicking into place as Dusty's brain shifted into gear.

He was nearly done placing himself, when his thoughts were interrupted by the thunder of a very distinct pair of engines. It was the sound of two of the largest radial piston engines on planet earth, roaring to full power. There was only one aircraft that Dusty knew with those engines…The little plane heard Cabbie race down the runway and take to the air. The whine of Chief Blade Ranger's rotors coming up to speed soon followed as the helicopter also took to the sky.

Dusty settled a little bit more heavily on his tires. The memories of the last 24 hours now fully formed in his head. He was exhausted, which was to be expected. He had flown halfway across the United States in record time, then Maru had worked long into the night applying Dusty's firefighter paint. All to make sure that he would be ready for this morning…Not that he really felt like moving at the moment.

For a couple of rotor beats Dusty considered drifting back to sleep for a while, but then there was series of bangs on his hanger door. The little plane sighed and opened the door to find Maru looking far perkier then he had any right to. Thankfully, the mechanic had a large mug of coffee in his tines which almost made Dusty forgive him for interrupting his 'beauty sleep.'

"You ready for today?" Maru grinned up at Dusty as the plane choked down the bitter firehouse brew…it was hot and caffeinated, and had was more closely related to creosote than the standard cup of joe that you would get at an FBO. Honestly, it was a wonder that anyone had functional taste buds after letting Cabbie run the coffee machine. That said, the bitterness did a good job of shaking loose the last cobwebs from Dusty's brain.

"I guess, I mean how hard is it going to be to keep a bunch of kids entertained?" The plane said stifling a yawn. The grin that Maru gave in return was practically predatory and Dusty really started regretting agreeing to help Jammer for the National Park Week Celebration. "I mean they are kids right?"

"You haven't joined us for one of the free national park entrance days have you?" The mechanic expression was smug.

"No…It can't be any worse than when the whole park kind of burned down around us…" Dusty started, but paused when he saw the look Maru was giving him. "…Can it?"

"Why do you think Blade and Cabbie pushed so hard to get you out here?"

"Because it was too early in the season get the smokejumpers to come?"

"Because," Maru practically purred, "neither of them wanted to get saddled with the public programs, and everyone in the park knows that Windlifter needs a wingman to keep an eye on him, so he doesn't go too far off the rails."

Having listened to some of Windlifter's creative storytelling before things clicked into place for Dusty. "I can see how that could be a problem…"

"Don't worry too much. Windy is actually pretty good with kids. The kid's parents on the other hand. That will be your job."

Dusty cocked his wings in puzzlement. "How so?"

"The parents are the taxpayers, and we need to make a good impression on them."

"Ah…" Dusty sighed. "So basically I should treat this like another stop on my press tour?"

"If that helps." Maru grinned then glance on the clock on the wall. "But any way you better head down the lodge. Your first interpretive activity starts in an hour and I am pretty sure that the Super will want to walk you through the basics."

Dusty stretched and warmed up his engine. This wasn't exactly the type of firefighting duty he had expected when Piston Peaks had given him a call. That said, it was a duty that he was uniquely qualified for. Now all he had to do was go and be himself, and hopefully inspire the next generation of firefighters.

* * *

_**End Note:**  You can visit national parks in the United States for free on the following holidays Martin Luther King Day (January Moves), the first day of National Park Week (April, Moves), National Park Service Birthday (August 25th), National Public Lands Day (September 28th), and Veterans Day (November 11th). If you have had a chance to explore your local national park, I would suggest checking it out, just be nice to your local rangers as 'free' day tend to be pretty chaotic for them._


	10. Salute

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cabbie had never taken death well but was grateful for the chance to properly say goodbye. In honor of Memorial Day.

"How could this have happened?" Cabbie swallowed his tears.

_"It was a freak accident…"_  Hope, the only female of the last four flying C-119's voice crackled across the radio.  _"There was literally nothing that could have been done, but the time anyone could react he was already gone."_

"But he was grounded. He was supposed to be safe!" And the next funeral was supposed to be for him. Cabbie was the one who flew into danger every other day. He wasn't supposed to morn anyone else. Now the news made him feel like was being torn apart piece by piece. Like shrapnel was shredding his engines.

_"Are you going to be able to make it up here?"_  Hope asked softly.  _"You know, to say goodbye?"_

"I don't know. We are in the middle of training and we are about to start fire season down here so they might not let us go…" Cabbie tried to make excuses, but in reality he didn't know if he had to strength to face the facts.

_"Talk to your boss. I will make some phone calls. Between the two of us we will figure something out."_

"When there's a will, there's a way." Cabbie muttered the mantra of the C-119.

_"When there's a will, there's a way."_  Hope echoed his words.  _"Be safe Cabbie. I hope to see you in person soon."_

Cabbie didn't know how long he sat starring at the radio after Hope had signed off. He didn't hear the call of fire and apparently ignored a direct order from Blade to get his wheels off the ground. Maru finally was sent over to see what in the Chrysler was going on, Cabbie didn't see the mechanic there until he gave him a sharp rap on the landing gear to get his attention.

The cargo plane came to the present, find seven sets of eyes staring at him with concern. He tried to shake them. He tried to convince the mechanic that he was okay. He told the smokejumpers and Patch that everything was alright, but to bottom of the old cargo planes heart he knew that there was a piece of the universe that would never be okay again. Bus was dead, and there was nothing in the world that Cabbie could do about it.

* * *

Cabbie went through the motions, his body on autopilot and his brain reliving the past. Finally when it became clear that the C-119 was currently more of an obstacle than an asset, Blade had sent Cabbie back to base to sulk in his hanger. Only once he was enclosed in the safety of his hanger, and he was secure in the knowledge prying eyes were off base, did the old warplane let himself cry for everything that was lost.

He didn't know how long he sat their staring at the wall. The sun had set a while ago, but the base was too quiet for his personal comfort. Exhausted he rolled out onto the tarmac to investigate only to find that the only building that was lit up was the main hanger. With a sigh, he rolled across the apron to find out what the rest of the base's residents were up to.

"I think we are going to have to send him."

The voices on the inside of the hanger were muffled, but Cabbie knew exactly who they were talking about. Taking a deep breath he tried to steal himself to take the problem head on. After all, while it was okay for his fellow firefighters to acknowledge his loss, the C-119 wasn't going to accept any pity.

"Maybe we could send…" Blade started, but didn't get the chance finish before Cabbie nosed the hanger door open.

"Cabbie!" Patch yelped, upsetting her coffee.

The cargo plane allowed his eyes to scan the gathered crowd…which included everyone resident of Piston Peak Air Attack Base, some of the parks most senior park rangers, and even a couple of people from HR. Cabbie sighed, because at this moment being resigned to his situation seemed a whole lot more healthy then becoming angry and frustrated about it. Clearing his throat he spoke.

"I know that this is not the best time for me to take leave…I also know that under current National Park Service funeral leave policy this situation does not qualify, and even if it did it is going to take me at least ten days to attend the funeral and make the round trip from Alaska." Cabbie didn't meet anyone's eyes. "But I would also like to point out that as far as government service goes, I give Ol'Jammer a run for seniority. Even with me taking a week or two of vacation most Falls, I have hundreds of hours of vacation time saved up and I…" The warplane's voice broke. "I need the chance to say goodbye. Bus was my wingman and for C-119's that means more than being related by birth…"

Cabbies voice trailed off and silence filled the hanger as everyone tried to determine how they respond to the speech. It was finally Blade that broke the quiet. "While it would be useful to have you during training, as long as we can locate a nearby cargo plane to provide mission support during an emergency, I am comfortable with authorizing the leave. "

"Would it be helpful if we sent someone north with you? You know to keep you company and all?" Maru asked, and Cabbie knew exactly what they mechanic was referring to.

The plane snorted. "I have no intention of going sub hunting or finding a solid core cloud." Cabbie practically spat, but then instantly regretted it when the mechanic gave him a haunted look. Softening his tone Cabbie continued. "This is a situation where it makes sense for me to travel north fast and light. Besides, I know that I will be coming south with precious cargo. C-119's have always been a practical sort. We hate to see good parts sit on the ground when they could be flying."

"Bring back whatever you would like." Maru patted Cabbie's nose and the plane knew he had been forgiven for his outburst. "I will make sure that anything that needs to be patched is better than new."

* * *

Finding a back up cargo plane proved to be a simple task. Cabbie had been a part of the community long enough that many of the neighboring municipalities owed him a couple of favors. Everything was in place within 24 hours and C-119 was heading north within 48. Cabbie decided to push his limits flying up the coast, only taking stops to grab some fuel or take a quick nap.

As made his final approach into Buddy Woods Municipal Airport in Palmer, Alaska, Cabbie regretted pushing himself so hard. The temperature was still chilly and the gravel runway was a slick mess of ice and mud. Cabbie couldn't help but shiver as the mud that his tires kicked up clung to his under belly. He was hungry, cold, tired, and really just really just wanted to see a friendly face. Luckily he was not disappointed, parked on the apron was a silver plane sporting a familiar pair of tails.

"Cabbie!" Hope greeted him warmly as he rolled to a stop. "It is very good to see you."

"It is very good to see you." Cabbie glanced around, surprised that his fellow squadron mate wasn't here to meet him. "Where is Truck?"

"He headed north a couple of days ago to go make sure that everything was sorted out." Hope said quietly, seeming to sense Cabbie's bad mood. But she put on a bright smile and wiggled her flaps. "Well, I don't know why we are still sitting out here on the tarmac. Let's get you inside and thawed out."

The tired plane didn't need to be told twice. Cabbie eagerly followed Hope into warm hanger that she and Truck called home.

* * *

The next morning brought another day of hard flying over difficult terrain, but with Hope flying point Cabbie didn't find it nearly as exhausting. As they came in for a landing at the airport, they were greeted by several of the Bethel's most distinguished citizens and within moments it became clear that in the bush towns mind Cabbie was the chief mourner in this particular funeral.

After the first series of condolences were made Cabbie and Hope were ushered towards the largest hanger in town. Rolling in to the building, the old warplane could not ignore the smell of death that surrounded them. Even though the town's mechanics had done their best to clean up the charred wreckage that was laid out before them, they couldn't completely cleanse the room of the smell of burnt tires and melted wires.

The fire that had consumed Bus's mortal frame had burned hot and fast. While it had most likely been a painful way die, it was a far more fitting way for an old veteran to slip to the eternal skies than to slowly rust away in a government boneyard. Bus had brought fire and death to so many of their nation's enemies. It was only fitting that fire would bring him peace in the end.

It was not until he felt Hope's wing gentle bump his did Cabbie realize that he was freely weeping.

* * *

The following 72 hours was a whirlwind. As chief mourner, Cabbie was there to witness Bus's breaking and helped with the sorting of parts. Most critical components were burned beyond repair, but there were still a few pieces that might help the C-119's stay flying for just a little bit longer.

The old cargo plane was exhausted when four C-130s arrived from closest military airfield…an honor guard there to pay Bus the respect due to a fallen warplane. Cabbie was comforted that Bus hadn't been forgotten by the air force, even though he had never served as long or risen as high in the ranks as Cabbie.

"Sir." One of the C-130's, a Captain snapped to a salute in front of Cabbie. "We have been speaking with your fellow C-119 and given your relationship with to the departed, we would like to offer you the option of flying in the missing man formation."

"Of course." Cabbie replied, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. "Who will be flying the missing man position?"

"I think I speak for all of us when I say there is no other plane that would be better suited to fly that position then you Colonel." Truck motioned to the C-130s around him. "There is not one plane here that would dare to take the right of a wingman away from you."

"Thank you." Cabbie managed to say before his emotions made it difficult to speak.

* * *

As tradition stated, they took off a half hour before sunset. They made sure that they were out of sight of the community before forming south of Bethel. As planned Truck took the lead position and set the speed. Cabbie positioned himself as the leader of the second element, directly on Truck's right. Once the group locked in they started to fly north towards town. At the low altitude, they were flying it was easy to see that the entire community was outlining the airstrip to say goodbye to an important member of their community.

_"Okay, boys. Let's go say goodbye in proper military fashion."_  Truck's gravelly voice broke over the radio, bringing Cabbie's thoughts into sharp focus. It seemed to have a similar effect on the other planes who tightened up their formation.

_"Slow."_ All six aircraft slowed down in unison. As they did they tightened into a perfect V-formation.

_"Smoke down."_  At the lead plane's order, all of the planes activated their smoke machines, allowing them to paint white trails across the sky.

_"Cab slow down."_  Cabbie took a deep breath when Truck gave the instruction, then slowed allowing the rest of the formation to leave him slightly behind. Giving the C-119 enough space to do the maneuver he knew was coming next.

_"Cab break."_

With a burst of speed, the old warplane pushed his engines to full throttle and turned nose towards the sky, as the other five planes continued to fly in their precise formation. Cabbie sped upward towards the evening clouds for a few moments before making a sharp turn to the west and flying into the gold of the setting sun.

"Blue skies my friend." Cabbie whispered to the horizon, before making a wide turn back to the airport. "And Bus, I know I the last one in our flight getting there and I still have missions to do down here so it may take a while for me to join you guys, but please don't forget to save me a space in the formation."

* * *

_**Aviation Note:**  The missing man formation is a special kind of aircraft salute that is sometimes done in honor of a pilot, military officer, or public servant. It is believed that the first missing man formation was flown to honor the Red Baron, though that might be a myth. What we do know is that the missing man formation became an important honor in the US during WWII and spread to other air forces around the world. Most missing man formations are completed using four aircraft, with the second element lead plane pulling out. Though the missing man formation has been flown with as many of 50 aircraft. Traditionally the formation is flown from South to North, with the plane representing the missing man pulling out and flying into the sunset. If you witness a missing man formation in progress it is traditional to remove your hat unless you are currently in military or other public service uniform._


	11. Too Few Cooks in the Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was time to fill a vacancy in the Piston Peak Smokejumper team...and the only applicant that sticks out is the one who can't stand Cabbie's cooking.

The end of April had come once again, and it was time to determine who was going to be joining the smokejumpers this year. Pretty much everyone was returning, so there was only one spot to be filled. Dynamite and Blade had narrowed the applicant pool down to fifteen possible applicants who the invited to Piston Peak for a trial run. Only six showed. The rest of the candidates had gotten offers with much more prestigious smokejumping teams, which left Piston Peak with applicant pool of greenhorns…again.

The fact that none of the applicant pool had ever actually worked as part of a smokejumper team made the in person aspect of the interview process that much more important. Dynamite wanted to make sure that the vehicles they chose was willing to learn and would physically be able to keep up with the rest of the pack. Cabbie wanted to make sure that their new addition wouldn’t throw off his weight balance too badly. Maru needed to make sure that they didn’t get a lemon that would drain their limited repair budget…and Blade, Blade really just wanted to make sure that they didn’t get a vehicle that would prove to be a continuous headache for the rest of the members of the team.

As Cabbie flew in with the applicants, there were able to scratch two of the vehicles off their applicant list…one proved to be claustrophobic; the other had refused to board Cabbie at the lodge, insisting that the C-119 was too old to be flying. This left four vehicles for Dynamite to start putting through their paces.

None of them could keep up with the ATV, but all of them gave an honest effort. They all crawled through the mud and cut down trees; they went on long hikes through the forest and tried their best to complete navigation challenges. They pushed themselves so hard they conked out nearly the moment that they got back to camp.

The other members of the Air Attack Team did their best to support Dynamite's tests. Blade and Windlifter made performance notes from the skies. Maru took care of all of the first aid needs, while Cabbie continued to wrangle the domestic chores. After all, Cabbie was the only one of the long term crew who actually seemed not to mind being put on cooking duty. His style of cuisine tended was grab open a few cans and dump it into a pot, but the old warbird always made sure that food at supper time was hot, filling and plentiful.

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for one of the participants. On the last evening of the training, one of the tired-looking applicants rolled into the hangar and parked himself in front of Cabbie just as he started to collect that evening’s collection of cans.

“No lo digo de mala onda, Sir, but you’re cooking stinks.”

“Alright.” Cabbie looked down at the little ground pounder then shrugged his wings, taking the comment in stride. If the gravel muncher didn’t like the C-119’s cooking, he was welcome to see if he could improve it. “The kitchen is all yours.”

Even though he must be exhausted, the little vehicle didn't skip a beat as he rolled into the kitchen like he owned it. After a few moments poking around the cupboards, he started to happily hummed along as he combined various ingredients. Soon the pleasant smell of herbs and onions blossomed throughout the hangar, and soon Windlifter wandered in to investigate what was going on. Seemingly oblivious to the fact that the two largest aircraft on base were intently watching him, Blackout continued took cook.

He completed his dish and put it on the serving counter moments before, regular as clockwork, Blade rolled into the main hangar. Without even looking up from a file that he was reading, he served himself a large bowl of the applicant’s cooking. Both Windlifter and Cabbie watched Blade in amusement as he took his first bite of chili and chewed. After a long paused, he glanced around the room before taking a good look at the applicant parked in the kitchen, face deadpan.

“Whoever made this, we’re keeping him.” Blade said before the helicopter turned on his tail and headed back to his hanger…taking his bowl of chili with him.

Neither Windlifter or Cabbie could resist a smile as they tucked into their dinners. After all, they knew that while this new vehicle might be green, he had already shown important attributes that would serve him well as a member of the Piston Peaks Air Attack Team…the ability to see a problem and use his skills to fix it.

Cabbie had a feeling everyone was going to enjoy tasting this kid’s solutions all summer.

* * *

_**Aviation Note:** And that is how Blackout became a member of the team, though he didn’t earn his nickname for a while. _ _J This particular story focuses on an important part of being a part of a field team…Other Duties as Assigned. When you are living as part of a small team in the middle of nowhere, the ability to do additional duties such as cooking, cleaning, repairing equipment, and other chores is critical to the success of the mission. It is not uncommon for applicants to be selected because of their skills completing ‘other duties’ if they fill an existing hole in the organizational structure._


End file.
